noun
the sampling of amniotic fluid using a hollow needle inserted into the ******, to screen for developmental abnormalities in a fetus.

...

Not everything about you
is on that little screen; 
not in your number of chromosomes,
not in your misshapen genes. 

Yet everyone talks about you,
as if they know you:
"impaired cognitive abilities"...
"50% chance of being stillborn"...
"impacts the family unit"...

Your life and capacity for love
will never be defined by your DNA,
but rather by your smile and
your laughter and 
your heart
and
and
and
...

In short, my love, 
you cannot be defined by what is missing
but rather by what you can
and will be when you arrive 
in all your humanity

Our road not marked on maps.
Fugitives of the centuries,
our origin is the breathing
and our destination is exhalation,
A thousand suns are flowing in our blood,
and the vision of infinity is always chasing us.
The form cannot tame us,
Our days are a fire and our nights a sea.

Heart on my sleeve
Knife in my back
Eyes opened wide
Nails with jagged edges
Body covered in bruises
Internally broken to pieces
Shattered like a mirror
My reflection currently scary
UNFAMILIAR

Mind tired and weak
Thoughts keep intersecting
Creating contradiction amidst
THE TRUE REALITY
Insecurities fog loves sky
Past trauma keeps resurfacing
Lately a struggle just to breathe
I have only myself to blame
FAMILIAR

Tryna brave the belly of the beast
But this enemy of me
Has got hands-

I’ve never metaphor for anxiety
Like this one
Imposter syndrome-

I was only a dark forest away
from who I needed to be
But feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy
Are twisting clouds so forebodingly 

Mara’s army fires arrows
Raining streams of self-consciousness
Like I wasn’t ready to self destruct
on impact -
detonation

I laugh and share memes of self-deprecation
Social media the new god
Where we worship ourselves
By constantly trying to impress
everyone else

Venmo me Dopamine tributes
With the truth in a cave of
depression and
Isolation

Maybe Holly’s right
And I do need to be here
She shines the light
On the darkness
In the hospital wing
5th floor at Evanston
But I’m afraid I’ve grown too codependent
On this astral plane
I’ve projected
And romanticized
these Ambien nights
Only to awake neglected
Screaming out her name
In sleep paralysis
On a dark night-


When I’m manic
I try to live it out like I’m in a movie
Projecting inner struggles
As external conflicts
To make the scene more interesting
Until I’m in this final battle alone like Odysseus
Lost all my friends when the monster ate our ship and I took em for granted caught up
Between a rock and a hard place-
Depressed and Hyper-sexualization
when spring is here again

I’m in the first act dip
edging the ******-
Stimulating the simulation

Listen,
if stars are still lit it means there is someone who needs them.
It means someone wants to love,
Why then do we feel so much pain and heaviness of heart?
are we waiting for something, regretting anything?
To whom I can strech out my hand in the somber desert?
Who will accompany me on the empty night?
Who will give me a fiery day?
Who will bring back the sea that left?
No hope here. Torment is certain.
Without sacredness in the emptiness of this world of ours,
the heart of man fades like a flower.  
Suddenly, the shuddering of the heavens penetrating my soul,
Oh never let the parting sun, no star is ever lost we once have seen, the long rains will continue to fall.

Take the "La" out of Label for they are more than a diagnosis,
They are fathers who have immigrated to a new country while hiding the schizophrenia they battle just to uphold employment,
They are mothers who sustain households while silencing themselves for their family's protection,
They are sister's who step up and raise siblings while charading stability,
They are brothers who mask realities to rejuvenate positivity,
They are families that have undergone generational trauma to pave a path for a brighter tomorrow,
Disabilities - mental illness - mental health - are not deficits of identity; they bolster morale and resilience in the BIPOC community.

These are the students that fight the notions of normality to reduce the stigma,
These are the scholars that rewrite the narrative in pursuit of decolonizing the education system,
These are the individuals who are representing an ever-growing population,
These are the souls that have abilities which surpass the medical  confinement of their disabilities.

If I run scared in the meadows
If I cry underneath a willow,
Do you even care
Would you dare to follow?

You have seen me smile,
Have you ever listened to my cry?
Do you even care,
I bet you never dared.

The river is the first to mourn,
As I stand on the edge alone.
One last time,
To you I say goodbye.

He cannot hear
I just now realized
He's deaf to it, it's all disguised
Everything, all of it, is crystal unclear
What's up is down and what's far is near

The radio boils
The microwave sings
The telephone listens, while his ear rings
But he hasn't noticed, his ignorance is loyal
To his strange world of backwards turmoil

His eyes tear up
At the toasters dull ding
Oblivious though, to orchestral strings
Crescendoing, divinus, in joyous buildup
An Ode only heard as a course hiccup

Puts books to his ear
But hears no voice
Thumbs through jibberish, but his hands hold Joyce
The steak tastes like spam and the wine of beer
He's deaf to it, all of it, everything I fear

He runs in squares
And lounges in circles
Tears down hopes, and builds up hurdles
Will flail in shallow water and fall up stairs
Then write love letters to hate-affairs

Has two left feet
And no right moves
His rhythm and soul have lost their groove
It's tragic, greek, a heart that offbeat
Might mistake victory and chance for fate and defeat.

He's wrong. What's more?
He's oxymoronic
His light-hearted prose are mostly sardonic
Wouldn't know an apple from an adonic core
Or discordant beats from euphonic score.

He's deaf to it,
Yes ears and all.
Despite what words I might here scrawl.
It will never get through to that dumb misfit
He's deaf and blind and full of ****.