this is the way i make myself seen:

i am taken in to be transformed,
to be known and made knowable,
to get what i want
and I need to get by.

a stranger runs
through a list of questions,
with eyes that refuse to stray
from the words on the page.

and the office is cold,
so cold.

and my mind runs
through the possible replies
(should i lie? stretch the truth?
leave half at the door behind me?)

and my mind races
through endless case scenarios
(which words do i want
to be haunted by this time?)

and here, my mind lingers;
I wonder if “care” is worth it.

but my lips, they betray me
in a voice i’ve forgot as my own,
with eyes that refuse to stray
from the stain on the ceiling.

and they pause to decide on my case —
which boxes to tick,
what i need and deserve —
with eyes that refuse to reach me.

…and this is the way i disappear.

Artist Statement

This poem is a reflection on my experiences navigating medical, mental health, and accommodation systems. During intake appointment and beyond, we are expected to recount our stories and struggles, over and over again, to complete strangers, so they may judge our needs and determine how they can be met on our behalf. I often find myself getting lost in translation: the person on page becomes unrecognizable to me.

These systems demand and depend on our compliance in exchange for “care.” Despite years of involvement in advocacy on institutional levels, I often find myself unable to advocate for myself within the confines of the office, or to conceal that which I do not wish to share. I feel completely powerless.

What is the alternative? I dream of a future where access to care and support is about meeting needs rather than proving them. I dream of a future where access is shaped by self-determined needs, rather than what is most convenient or familiar to the institution, and least likely to present an “undue burden.” I dream of a future where access is playful, creative, imagination work; as we ask ourselves and each other “what if things were different?” and leaned into that which feels impossible.

The alternatives I dream of are not merely reforms of existing gatekeeping structures, but rather require their complete abolition. I dream of a future where access arises in mutual relationship, as we work together with a genuine commitment to each other, to justice, to collective liberation.

Bureaucracy is easy because it does not require us to care. The work of genuinely caring about each other is hard — but if we hope to craft true alternatives, it is also necessary.