They taught us to scream "fire!"
"Help!" Would elicit no response.
They told us to wedge keys in our fingers,
To never walk alone in the night.
They told us to watch out for strangers,
To avoid masked men in dark alleys.
No one ever told me to beware of the man in my own bed,
To shudder when he told me he loved me.
No one told me that I would freeze,
Limbs powerless to fight him off.
They did not tell me I would know him, trust him, love him
Until the moment I couldn't anymore.
You can keep your **** whistles,
Your fists with car keys and staining sprays.
You can keep your roofie nail polish and SOS phone apps.
None of it would have done me any good
As I lay there, clinging to bed sheets and teddy bear.

You were not respecting my boundaries
By attempting to rearrange them
So you could continue as you pleased.

When I slam,
I am more human
Than humanity before me.

When I slam,
I am the queen
Bathed in poet glory.

When I slam,
I am mine alone.
No other beings touch me.

When I slam,
I am a warrior.
Syllables learn to fear me.

Depression does not have object permanence,
Or it would know
That happiness is merely
Hiding.

In time I have found
The memory of your touch has softened,
Your smile but an imprint on my heart.
It has been nearly a year now,
Since you've been gone,
But I am still
Broken open,
Waiting for you.

He said he loved me,
So why did he **** me?

"You can join our group," he says,
"But only if you look everyone in the eyes."
I freeze.
Surely he is aware by now that the words
Autism Spectrum Disorder
In my chart were not placed there for fun?
Surely he is aware by now that finger twitching, body rocking,
     gaze avoiding
Are not for my frivolous pleasure?
Surely he is aware by now the absurdity of what he asks?
I am autistic.
Burning irritation of the eyes and panic aside,
Staring creepily into another human's eyeballs
Would render group a waste of time, no possibility to listen.
He knows this.
It is his prejudice that keeps him rooted to the spot.
I can feel the weight of his expectations boring into my forehead.
Explaining what it is to ask this of me,
I remind him that drawing this line would be excluding me because
Of my autism.
I tell him he would be losing a valuable participant,
A deep thinker, a creator, an avid listener.
I tell him he would be discriminating,
That I am protected by law.
Oh, no.
He budges not,
For he does not dislike autistic humans
So long as they act like they are Neurotypical,
So long as I pretend to be
Someone I am not.