If you employ me
Don’t mention my health
Even if I speak about it
Don’t ask about progress
Don’t suggest treatment
I can share as much as I want
That doesn’t give you permission
Yes, this dynamic isn’t fair
Because I live in a broken body
And you have power over me
If you feel silenced by me
It’s because of the beeswax
The fact that it isn’t yours
But also it’s the law.
Elizebeth Turnquist 