Portals To Another World

i literally can't write what am i doing

The hand beneath my ribs
It used to push and pull
Using my ribs as the handle bars
Of my first bike ride
It was always there
No one understood
This isn't anxiety, this isn't because my parents fought
This isn't caused by my dyslexia stress
This isn't caused by my father's sickness
This isn't caused by my father's death
This hand beneath my ribs, it was with me since I was born
I know it like the back of my own hand
I know it's in's and it's out's
Months ago I stopped crying
I shook the hand and breathed through the pain
I spoke when people did not listen
This hand may push
It may pull away my sanity at times
But I grabbed it's fingers and pulled back
I shouted at my parent
This won't be cured by scented candles nor yoga
This isn't anxiety
I learned sign language
to talk with the hand beneath my ribs
I kept at everyone until eventually I used the pain
I used it it show everyone that this needed something
The hand beneath my ribs pushed so hard one night I blacked out
The pain making my brain clouded and foggy
Rushed visit to the doctors the next morning
The hand beneath my ribs my only company in the waiting room
Now I have a name, a piece of paper and a thought that I'm not crazy
It isn't a hand, but it sure as hell is real
And tomorrow they tell me which type
Which rings the hand wears