I'm angry. So here's my poem on endo, I hope it resonates 💕

I'm feeling really inspired seeing everyone's recent art and films on endo. And really angry about the news on Melbourne gynaecologist, Dr. Simon Gordon. As if we don't have to deal with enough already.

Sooo...it feels scary bearing my soul but I wanted to share something too. I can't draw but I can write. This is my poem about medical dismissal, rage, and living with endo in a world that still doesn't take it seriously.

I carry it with me.
Hidden in bone and breath,
named invisible,
yet heavier than flesh.

Medical misogyny, they name it.
I call it silence.
Hands that wave me off,
eyes that will not see.

I shout, I break, I plead—
they nod like I’m a child.
Quiet now. Don’t be wild.

First a witch.
Then hysteria.
Now it’s in your head.
History changes names—
dismissal never did.

They who make me vanish.
They who dim my voice.
Not fate.
Not chance.
Not my body’s fault,
but systems built by choice.

I am not a warrior.
This is not war.
This is harm dressed as science,
polite neglect at the doctor’s door.

Take the pill.
Have a baby.
Cut it out.
It doesn’t hurt.
Lies stacked neatly,
palm to palm.

Rage, rage
against this medical machine—
so cold, so clean.

Where programmed empathy
feels more serene,
where AI feels kind,
while breathing bodies
go unseen,
and white coats shrug—
routine.

What world is this
where pain must beg belief?

Endometriosis.

Say it. Without shame.
Never let them erase it again.