I don't want your cure

I don’t want your cure
I am not broken
I don’t not belong condemned to the genetic dustbin
I am not less
My world is not ‘wrong’
My communication not ‘lacking’
My interests not ‘obsessive’.
I am not a tragedy
Not the product of a cruel God
Not something to be fixed.

I am myself
I am proud and beautiful
My reality as valid as your reality
My experience my own.
I love my world
This world I share with others like me
The only tragedy in my life is hatred
People too small to see my value
To sad to delight in my quirks

You want a cure
Which part of me will you cure?
Will you cure my talent?
The brilliance of my pen
The clarity of my wit?
Will you take my life and remove all the broken bits?
All the life I have lived
The wisdom gained through horror and loss?
The love and kindness left when the fires of abuse and terror died?
Will you take my compassion
My empathy
My love for the Other?
What of me would you leave behind from your cure?

No. I don’t want your cure.
I want your understanding, your ear, free of judgement.
I am human
There is no cure for humanity save death
And that is hardly a cure.