A poem about dyspraxia

I am constantly grappling with shame-based messages my brain keeps throwing up at me, so I decided to fuel my upset into poetry. I read this at an open mic last night, and I'm hoping I was able to educate some people on what dyspraxia is. (BTW, all of the verses are Haiku.)

Dyspraxia

This poem is an

apology to myself

for years of self-hate

Dyspraxia is

an invisible illness

that makes you clumsy.

But there’s more to it

than that. Let me give you some

examples of what I mean.

When I trip over

air and run into the wall,

that’s dyspraxia.

When I reach for my

drink, but “Oops!” knock it over,

that’s dyspraxia.

When I try to eat

bread but inhale crumbs instead,

that’s dyspraxia.

When remnants of lunch

become part of my sweater,

that’s dyspraxia.

Keep dropping my keys

on the same ingrown toenail!

That’s dyspraxia.

When I awkwardly

speak garbled words that aren’t clear,

that’s dyspraxia.

How I manage to

put shirts on backwards – both ways –

That’s dyspraxia.

When I step on a

crack, I might break my own back.

That’s dyspraxia.

When I look at a

map, my poor brain goes “Kaboom!”

That’s dyspraxia.

I must preplan my

route through a room filled with stuff.

That’s dyspraxia.

Before I learn new

skills, I have to weigh the risks.

That’s dyspraxia.

What seems easy to

you is more daunting for me.

That’s dyspraxia.

“You look so normal.”

“You must be making it up!”

That’s dyspraxia.

“Why can’t you learn this?”

“You’re not trying hard enough!”

That’s dyspraxia.

“Don’t make excuses!”

“Just get out of your own way!!”

That’s dyspraxia.

Feeling a shame so

deep I want to disappear.

That’s dyspraxia.

When I wish I could

be anyone else but me.

That’s dyspraxia.

That said, dyspraxics

are able to adapt to

new skills with practice

It is exhausting,

but necessary. It might

take me hours, weeks, months,

Or even years to

pick up what others pick up

immediately,

But once I've got it,

I’ll never forget it. That’s

dyspraxia, too.

Dyspraxia is

a disconnection between

the brain and body

Communication

may break down, but that doesn’t

mean that I’m broken.

- by Rachel Zirkin Duda © 2025