My Father said,
“Sometimes, Conor, you talk too much
And talk too little.”

I’ll let you figure that out on your own
So here I go:

I started off as shy
Didn’t like to meet people’s eyes
I was floating in the skies
So when I dropped I was surprised

I began to talk more,
Sometimes I just don’t shut up
There’s so much I have to say
But of time there’s not enough

My Primary years were years of torture
Those twisted words a killer
“Stupid. *****. ******. Loser”
I shut my eyes and mouth, head down, just kept cruising
Hoping. Praying
That someone would maybe save me

But I was unlucky
No-one came to rescue me
So pretty soon I hated the world that surrounded me
A father gone, overseas, fighting a war.
Because when it comes to family, some things are worth dying for.

Well pretty soon after, I wanted to die
When I found out that I wasn’t quite alright
My difference wasn’t me just being a shy guy
That untroubled dragon, unburdened, flying in the sky

Because I was diagnosed with Asperger’s at the age of eight
Chance hated me, it seemed, and so too did fate
Adding fuel to the fire, an internal pyre
That consumed me, hungrily, leaving me broken and tired

So my innocence was ignorance
You can tell by the evidence
I wanted an exit
Another way I could end this

Years down the track, and who am I now?
Am I that joker you thought I was, head up and proud?
The friend to the friendless, my speech is just endless
But at the end of the day I’m only pretending

Because I’m not okay, I’m a broken part
To a greater whole of some use, just needing a kick-start
My friends and family, you see, they disagree with me
Saying worn is not broken, and either way it isn’t easy

It hasn’t been easy, torn by the truth
And mocked for my teeth, hit at times, left bruised
Sticks and stones may break my bones and all that other ****
By words hit hard too and at times it’s hard to deal with it

Now I don’t seek attention, just tried to let them know
That I was struggling and there were some things I couldn’t let go
From the first time I was called “Bucky” to the handle of a blade
I wanted to tear apart all the **** they had made

So I started hacking away at myself
Trying to find a better someone else
The answer lies not in blood spilled, or the steel used to slash through
But in your mind hides a better you, a person with a better view

It just takes time to uncover
The century’s best discover
An artefact, buried, hidden, within your soul
Just clear your problems
Try and solve them
And you’ll be whole

“Sometimes, Conor,
You talk too much
And talk too little”

Do you understand?