Nobody gets to define the speaker by their disabilities, and the poem says so over and over. Each stanza ends on the same line, "My disabilities are not me," and it works like a refrain the speaker repeats to convince the reader, and perhaps themselves. The poem names blindness, tics and a tremor, then sets them against a list of what the speaker is: an artist, a guitarist, a writer, a leader, a protector, a fighter, loyal, honest, proud.
The mood is defiant but also vulnerable. The short, plain lines feel like a person standing their ground. The final stanza is the most raw. Words like "freak" and "monster" suggest the speaker has been treated as less than human, or fears being seen that way. The answer is simple and quiet: "I am only human." The poem doesn't ask for pity. It asks to be seen whole.