At school, we’re taught how to read
and write.
The first thing most children will remember writing
is their name:
“Hello. My name is…”
I wonder if ‘becoming’ autistic changes that.

When you find yourself reminiscing
that last moment of happiness,
take comfort in knowing life
could have been harder.

Every black eye, every use of the words
‘spastic’, ‘******’, ‘loony’,
Every litany of insults, blood,
sweat, tears
is a sign

there is still much left to learn.

We will never finish this journey
if we never start it.