Disabled

Disability
one tiny word
but when people say it
they look like they've just sucked too hard on a lemon.
Uncomfortable silence follows.
They take in my wheels first,
eyes wondering
why I can walk,
why I have a walker,
what's wrong with me.

My walker's name is Clementine.
I bring her everywhere
but why would people care about that
when they can just stare?
At school I'm pretty much accepted
except for last year
when a girl named Anna belle 
came into my life.

At first I thought she was nice
and just needed a friend
but then came the comments
subtle, but hurtful.
"Oh, this might be too hard for you."
"I can do this better than you."
And then there was "people only like you because they feel bad for you"
that felt like
a kickball in the stomach
and then I'd had enough.

Now I have a whole group of amazing friends
that take up a whole lunch table
and they accept me for who I am.
They laugh with me,
they are kind,
and that matters more than one mean person.