Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Justice denied
for another mind of my kind.

It hurts so much to see
the abuse over time.

It's a burden we carry
against our will.

Our hurt is an expectation
we can never fulfill.

But overcoming our "shortcomings"
is what strengthens us.

Our obstacles
are our only path.

Our unique efforts,
the only way to success.

Effort is success.
And success is being free.
And freedom is just being
the kind we were born to be.
I'm struggling with seeing a younger Autistic person receive so much abuse and negativity from her family and her peers. She is constantly struck down and never built up. She is beautiful. She is determined. She is wise beyond her years. She is passionate. She is a warrior.
The stone lustered pink,
but in the lake, where I found it,
it destined to sink.

Only for a moment,
I held it in my hand.
And now, where it rests,
it holds my passions,
fears,
desires,
and plans.

It's like my heart sank to the bottom of the lake.

Really,
my lost object of affection
resides just off the beach.
But practically,
it lies
just out of my reach.

An ocean may as well separate us.

I won't ever find it.
And it won't try to find me.

I knew this piece of rose quartz
for such a short time.
I don't know where it came from.
I don't know who first had it,
and I don't know why
an unknown soul
left it for me to find.

I remember how it glistened
such a pure, perfect pink.
It had no inclusions, blemishes,
or defects I could seek.

That precious stone,
that I never got to know,
I'll never see again.
Who am I really?

What makes me...me?

What's true to my being

Versus what people see?


I'm a masked player

Up on the stage.

Open-minded

But set in my ways.


I'm tired, but restless.

Energetic, but fatigued.

I endure all the miles

to cope with my needs.


I live in the mountains.

But I was born by the sea.

Adobes and sand dunes

Are where my spirit flies free.


I molded a mind for mountains

But I've grown a coastal soul.

I find comfort in warmth

But I thrive in the cold.


I'm reserved, but friendly.

Instinctively shy, but kind.

Introverted from the start

But I edited my mind.


I seem to know everyone.

I was taught this was the goal

To be a socialite

And avoid being alone.


I'm a determined dreamer.

I strove to achieve

The expectations of others

But, I've found what I need.


I present as outdoorsy

But I'm a nature girl at heart.

How people may see me

Was wild from the start.


I animate and write.

I love creating art.

To make is my nature

Something I can't depart.


I'm beautiful

But I act pretty.

I'm goofy

But present as witty.


I'm passionate

but stoic.

I'm thoughtful

But overthink it.


I'm a philosopher who's distracted.

That's why I repeat.

I rewrite wisdom

To help guide my feet.


I act confident

But I was born insecure.

It took many years

To uncover my "normal" form.


I'm a willful wanderer.

I'm timid but tough.

I can trek so far

Not knowing what's enough.


I attach to attention.

I tend to crave more

Of the love people give me,

But detach from what's adored.


I want the consistency

Of a level and linear coastline.

But I crave the novelty

Of meandering mountains at times.


I'm a starving artist

Who feeds on motivation.

I'm here to support

But I need to be supported.


I'm creative

Because I struggle.

I'm strong

Because I'm weak.


I'm an explorer of mountain peaks.

Internally, I'm lost and curious.

I explore many things  

That pique my interest.


I'm easily overwhelmed

But I'm an adapter.

I'm disorganized

But I'm a planner.


I'm a mentor

But I could be someone's mentee.

I'm a good listener

But I need someone to hear me.


I'm sensitive and empathetic

But sometimes apathetic.

I'm emotional and kind.

But I often feel numb inside.


I want to be capable

But sometimes, I’m unable.

I'm so often sentimental

Because life is unstable.


I've shown submission

To disguise my difference.

I've circumvented confrontation

To achieve some acceptance.


I was a late bloomer.

But I've pruned and grew flowers,

Flowers grown to hide my thorns.

But I uprooted and found power.


It's hard to collect my thoughts.

But it's easy to collect things.

So much in life changes.

But my things remain the same.


My achievements alone do not define success.

My best effort is my success's foundation

Through my effort alone,

I am a champion.


I dislike change

But change means growth.

If I'm not growing

I'm dying at most.


I'm interesting

Because I'm different.

I'm unique

Because of my interests.


I'm forgetful

But I'm hard to forget.

I'm easily flustered

But I've learned to reset.


I love birds.

Because, I long to be free.

I want to fearlessly fly

To be freely me.


I'm easy to get along with

But once hard to understand.

Now I'm learning myself

To show who I really am.


I'm a wonderful ******.

Neurodivergent from the start.

I am awesomely Autistic.

And I have a good heart.
Learning to unmask and discover who I am.
I am "Josephine Wild."
I am 35 years old.
I am an artist and an ultra runner.
I experience the world differently.
I wake up.
I work and workout.
I play.
I eat.
Then I sleep.

I see things like design and shapes.
I focus on the details.
But I try to see the bigger picture.
I look at typefaces and fonts.
I get hyper-focused.
I like to work.
To make.
To create.
Day after day
This is what I do.

I am never finished.
I date things
Because I lose track of time.
Time is against me.
So, I learn not to waste it.

Sometimes, I make believe.
But I am not a child.
I am grace.
I am strength.
I am beauty.
I am determined.
I have a good heart.

I live in my own home
With my husband.
We share the same bed.
I have toys and figurines.
I collect them.
I arrange them.
They always stay the same.
They bring me joy.

I am easily distracted.
I like to escape.
I can run away with my thoughts.
I’ve learned to domesticate my emotions.
I am an artist.
I am wonderfully weird.

I like people too.
They are beautiful each in their own way.
It’s nice to connect with people,
To feel loved.
Now, I know that I am so, so loved.
It’s hard to let people go, especially when you love them.
I know that I’m not alone.

I am apart of this world.
I just experience it differently.
But sometimes, I don’t feel free.
My life isn’t easy, but it’s a gift.
Life wouldn’t be great if it was easy.
I’m easy to get along with, and now I understand.

I love music.
I love to sing.
The music I like doesn’t need words.
I’m sometimes without words.
I search for them.
I need them quicker than they come.
But that’s OK.

I try my best to better myself.
I am not wrong, I am different.
When I fall, I reset.
I try not to cling onto people, but it’s hard.
I’ve learned to forgive myself.
I’ve learned to love myself.

I make more of an effort to think things through.
I have succeeded at leaving my comfort zones.
My effort is success.

I am not a problem.
Life is opinion. The universe is change.
And I’m always changing, always growing, always living.
I have grown a good heart.

I am awesomely autistic.
The current version of the poem I wrote 11 years ago, "Who I Am" (3-6-13).
I am "Josephine Wild."
I am 24 years old.
I am an artist.
I have a false sense of reality.
I wake up.
I work.
I pray.
And I eat.
Then I sleep.

I see things like design and shape.
I focus on the details.
I look at typefaces and fonts.
I like to work.
To make.
To create.
Day after day,
this is what I do.

I am never finished.
I date things
because I lose track of time.
Time is against me.

I make believe.
I make believe
because I am a child.
A child I am.
I live at home.
I sleep in the same room.
I sleep in the same bed.
I have toys and figurines.
I collect them.
They always stay the same.

I am easily distracted.
I like to escape.
I like to be alone
with my thoughts.
I am an artist.
I am weird.

I like people too.
They are beautiful
in that each
are unique
and their own.
It's nice to connect
with people.
But then
you don't want them to go.
I am alone.
I become cold.

In my own little world,
I am trapped.
I make it harder than it has to be.
My life isn't easy,
but it's a gift.
Life wouldn't be great
if it was so easy.
I'm easy to get along with,
but hard to understand.

I like music.
I like to sing.
The music I like doesn't need words.
I need words.
I search for them.
I need them quicker
than they can come.

I try my best.
I'm not perfect.
I have my faults.
I cling onto people.
I forget
to swallow my pride.

I don't think things through
or leave my comfort zone.
I don't want to cause problems.
I yearn to change.
I am changing my heart.
This was written 11 years before learning I am autistic.
Listen, love. Move down. Sleep over.
My love’s in doubt, down home, all over.
Forget my age. Move down. Move over.

Down inside, I doubt my love.
Move over.
I quickly forget down inside.
Quickly I am loosed.
Picking home I forget you over.
Instantly doubting down inside.

Picking home, I forget you over.
Loving home, I take ages to load.
Forgetting to lose. Move over.

Quickly forgetting down inside.
Forgetting to lose. Move over.
I go down quickly.
Quickly forgetting to lose.
I move down quickly. Move over.
Written 2014
Next page