You stole my life –
my being
my belonging
my deeds
my creations
my strength
my legacy.
You reduced me to
someone with circumstances,
someone with obstacles,
someone with a distress,
someone with a neediness
someone to worry about,
someone to take care of.
Your careful actions,
your pityful expressions,
your avoidance,
your talks from behind
confront me every day
with my new actuality,
with my new role:
I am a cutback to dilemma.
I am a sanitary case.
I am a mental invalid.
I am a subject to pity.
You made me.