The sheer cruelty of inflicting more pain on the vulnerable, simply because you can, is deeply disturbing.
She tries to move forward but they couldn’t resist biting and stabbing her.
fleeting trends
are like shadows
of the past
she no longer
dwells in their fleeting high
being indisposed
she has shed
that constant urge
to chase appearances
to splurge
each day
she’s left
further in the rear
the latest styles
a beauty veneer
have slipped away
through the sands of time
the greys
in her hair
shimmering
like the silver tide
tweak and treatments
are dreams denied
luxuries they are
beyond her reach
so many things
beyond her grasp
she yearned
but in her pocket
the loose change
is what has
remained for her
it would be
just the basics
in survival mode
she’s grateful
for shelter and meals
her faith
invested
on the
higher power
on medical treatment
hoping
for better days
maybe things
would normalize again
while
the harshness
of life
never stop pouring
jabs and judgements
pierced her
to the core
the gaze so cold
a relentless slight
from those
she’d never thought
would take a bite and stab
you
of all people
treated her with disdain
you cast your judgments
throwing her into dark pit
it’s as if
you would berate
the homeless too
for their ragged clothes
sleeping on the street in lieu
as wretched
as they are
they did nothing
to deserve
this from you
taunting
her appearances
humiliating her
throwing insults
why wound her so
with that cutting stare
does kicking dirt
in her face
after she has fallen
would delight you?
please remember
beneath this
fading veneer
lies a heart
that’s worn
a mind
that’s clear
emotions
still course through
these weary veins
dreams may have dimmed
but they still hold
the reins
please don’t ask her out
only to trample
on her
don’t expect her
to surrender
her spirit
to your shaming
don’t push her around
don’t twist the knife
allow her some dignity
just let her
live her life
What void compels a soul to find joy in another's agony? What dark 'happiness' is this?"
©Britt H.
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Hello, I'm Britt, the person behind the writings you'll find here.
While I can't promise a constant stream of exclusive content, I can promise to consolidate my often scattered, writing portfolio right here on BMC. Think of this as the dedicated home for all my work. Please note, this process might take time, depending on my daily condition.
For me, writing isn't just my craft; it's my sole way of working. As someone navigating multiple chronic illnesses with frequent medical treatments at various hospitals and clinics, my routine often leaves me with little energy or capacity for much else.
As an autistic individual with a severe anxiety disorder, holding a conventional job is almost an impossible feat—a sad reality that is a stark contrast to how I used to be able to function. These days, even an unexpected phone call can throw me into disarray, let alone stepping out the door.
Despite these immense challenges, they have, unexpectedly, opened new doors. In a way, being chronically ill has been a blessing in disguise, granting me the space and courage to pursue writing.
You could say I'm an unknown and perpetually poor writer (not everyone can be J.K. Rowling!).
I juggle inconsistent odd remote jobs alongside the limited income my writing generates on different platforms.
Your support here helps me continue this work and truly makes all the difference as I explore new avenues.
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✍️Previously published: 16th October 2023
📖 This piece was editorially approved for publication by Iceberg's Poetry.
Part of my consolidated writing portfolio.