No.

You do not understand.

Now take your hand from off my head.

Don't pat me,

patronizingly.

Do not dismiss me, with "I see..."

Nodding your agreement as

if we are sympatico--

like a blind man I can see

with my ears. I hear echoes.

"Forgive her, for she's limited"

I hear your finger tap your head.

Daft and damaged

with a shrug

a pity

she's not what she was.

* * *

How fortunate for you, I'm not.

How convenient for you,

that I am tied in tendon rags

with broken arms behind my back

waterboard me and I gag

as any human being shall--

I guess I lost you at "human"

so I shall abdicate the race

and take a white slab's epitaph

made poignant by the lack of space

in the potter's field.