disorders

The word "disorders" sends chills down my spine, It floods my mind with each diagnosis of mine. But then, when it calms, I remember, order is boring. I remember that although these make me an outcast, I cast my net into the sea of words And a poem comes out. Not affected by my DID, C-PTSD, ADHD And none of the others. Because all they are are different colors in the painting of my life. My heart a beautiful mess of color, My scars from that blade like tattoos I wear with pride, My body, not a temple, but a home. A home with a warm meal, a warm bed, And love. That home, is my heart. And if you break down the walls around, I will let you in, but won't hesitate to throw you out. And my mind may be flooding and drowning with all my trauma and disorders But I am staying afloat. No matter how many stones you throw, Trying to sink me like a ship. My disorders are who I am. I am me. And if my disorders cause a ruckus, I won't stop them. After all, They're disorders. They refuse to be put in a box. I refuse to be put in a box.