A teacher’s words:
“Why didn’t you listen?
Listen more and pay more attention!”

The sound of laughter,
From your comrades
And the smile that twitches your lips.
Oh boy, you’re enjoying this,
I can tell you are
From that suppressed smirk upon your face.
You’ve been waiting
And waiting for this opportunity.
Ever since that day
I had to correct your teaching
Of faulty sign language.
You’ve done it,
Leaping at it like a starving vulture.

Why didn’t I listen?
You know full well why.
You see these blue moulds
And these little machines
Hanging by each ear?
I pointed them out to you
And told you
That I am deaf
When we first met a few months ago.
You tell me to listen more
And to pay more attention
I do not choose
When I can and can’t hear.
Nor do I choose
What I want and do not want to hear.

You sit here,
Calling yourself a supporter of deaf awareness
And you founded
The British Sign Language club.
You try to teach people sign language,
And to raise awareness and knowledge
Of deafness and Deaf culture
.Yet, you sit here
And scream at me,
Telling me to listen more
Instead of not listening.
Why call yourself a supporter
If you barely understand the disability?
You yell at me for not listening
But I am deaf
And you have researched it
And even tried to raise awareness.
Why are you a learning support assistant
If you abuse your position
And never understand disabilities?

“You’re cold.”
Your words.
They ring in my mind,
rebounding inside my skull
and echoing for eternity.
Sharp little knives
that slice through my brain.

I’m not cold.
I’m as emotional
as emotional can be.
I may lack ****** expression,
body language
and gestures.
But I’m not cold.

You may think
that I do not care;
that I have no compassion
or love for other people.
But I'm certainly not cold.

I'm off to Planet Aspergia!
See you guys later!
I'm off to reign with dinosaurs
and immerse myself
in the laws of physics,
brewing of chemistry,
the mechanisms of biology,
and the fantastical world of numbers!

I'm off to Planet Aspergia!
See you guys later!
I'm off to a world
where toe-walking is the norm;
and ****** expressions are meaningless, lost.
Words aren't muddling:
No more sarcasm,
no more metaphors;
and no more misunderstanding!

I'm off to Planet Aspergia!
See you guys later!
Where I'll bury into my obsessions:
dinosaurs and infectious diseases,
here I come!
Goodbye, everyone!
Hello, Aspergia!

Drip, drip, drip…
The sound of blood
Falling from his nose
And pattering softly
Against the white basin of the sink:
Explosions of intense red
Against a blinding white.

Breaths ragged and short,
Lungs burning,
As if iron bands
Are compressing his ribcage,
Crushing the air
From his chest
With each sob,
Each breath he takes.

Remembering the beating:
A crack against his jaw;
Stars bursting before him
And flooding his vision
With red and gold and orange.

Thoughts ringing through his mind:
My name is Takumi;
Taka, Taka Moore.
As he clutches the basin,
Feeling the steel cold
Biting deep into his flesh,
Razor sharp and icy.

Spinning,
Stumbling,
Falling through the air.
A punch to the stomach
Robs him of his breath,
Leaving him gasping for air,
Helpless,
Winded,
Stranded.

Why are they hurting me?
What do they want?
He is a freak,
A freak of nature –
Worthless, unloved, dirt.
I am worthless;
i am a freak.

He doesn’t want to catch a glimpse,
A glimpse of himself in the mirror
And into the grim portal of reality.
But he slowly lifts his head
And gaze to his reflection.

With his eyes,
He traces his uncontrollable black hair,
Sticking up in all places
No matter how much he wets it;
Then his eyes:
Slightly almond shaped,
Stormy and dark,
Filled with a never ending sadness –
Shimmering and brimming over with tears.
Cheeks shining with tears
As they fall
Silent and quick.

“Taka?”
A voice – Hayato’s.
There he stands in the doorway:
Light brown hair ruffled
His eyes, with the faintest almond shape,
Wide: shock, fear?
“Taka, what happened?”

Hayato…
Why did you have to walk in on me like this?
To see me
So beaten?
So defeated?

Silent,
Mute,
Taciturn.
He can only stare
As the tears fill Hayato’s eyes.
His face convulsing and contorting
As he fights back the sobs.

“Taka, who did this to you?”
Hayato:
So small yet so strong
With a fiery determination
To fight with love for his big brother.
His helpless big brother.

Clutching the basin
As if clinging for dear life.
Taka doubles over.
“No one,” he whispers,
Forcing his vocal chords to work.
Shame and humiliation
Burning his cheeks.
“No one that you know.”
He cannot let anyone
Hurt Hayato,
Lay a finger on him,
Not even a hair.
But not like this –
This fragile and pathetic form.

A hand on his shoulder -
Hayato’s hand –
His warmth and support.
“Why won’t you tell me?
Please, Taka, tell me.
Who were they?
Did you fight back?”

A shake of the head,
Violent and brief.
“No, Hayato,
If I did, I could face suspension,
Then all my dreams
Would be shattered in that one instant.”

A silence settles upon the two,
Blanketing them
And immersing them for a few moments,
Before it is finally shattered:
“Taka…”
Hayato’s voice, ringing in Taka’s ears.

“Hayato,” Taka’s voice:
Immediately slicing through Hayato’s words.
Blunt and cutting to his own ears.
Suddenly powerful,
Filled with a newfound determination.
“I have a favour to ask you.”

A sniff
And more tears falling.
Hayato nods his head.
Good.
Taka is glad.

“Please, Hayato…”
He can hear his voice breaking already,
Cracking in that fleeting moment.
His eyes wide,
He looks up,
Hands trembling
As the tears course down his cheeks.
And the emotions overwhelm him:
Agony, sadness, anger and desperation.
His body racking with sobs.
“Teach me to be normal!”

****** expressions
Are like puzzles.
The mouth, the eyes and eyebrows
Are each a mini puzzle
That together represent emotion.

Furrowing of the eyebrows,
Lips pulled back into a snarl
To expose the teeth.
Anger.

Mouth pulled downwards,
Eyes filled with tears
And cheeks are reddened.
Sadness, perhaps grief.

But looks can be deceiving too.
A true smile:
Crinkling beside the eyes
And the lips pulled upwards.
A false smile:
No crinkling beside the eyes
And the lips forcefully pulled upwards.
No happiness
Nor truth.

****** expressions are like riddles,
Riddles that hide emotion.
They can mask the truth,
Conceal pain.
A mere web of lies.
What does that make ****** expressions?
Paradoxes?
Tools of manipulation?

As quick as a flash,
They switch
From one emotion to another
Before enough time is gathered
To solve the puzzles,
The ever confusing riddles.
Before I can solve
The meaning of the mouth,
The eyes
And the eyebrows.
Remaining forever a mystery.

These words:
"Deafy!"
"******!"
"*****!"
"Flithy ***!"
"Freak!"

Then the pain:
A crack against my jaw,
Stars bursting before me
And flooding my vision
With red and gold and orange.
Spinning,
Stumbling,
Falling through the air.
A punch to the stomach
Robs me of my breath,
Leaving me gasping for air,
Helpless,
Winded,
Stranded.
Cheeks burn with a fire
As though laced with petrol
And set alight.
Pain courses through my body,
Sapping me of strength.

Cruel laughter as sharp as knives
Cuts through the air
And deep into my flesh,
As cold as steel.
Haunting,
Echoing through my mind
And rebounding inside my skull.

Where have I fallen?
What have I done?
I have done nothing wrong.
My deafness
And the words dancing,
Gliding,
From my reach,
I cannot control.
My intellect and emotions
Are strange,
Different,
Enigmatic.
My speech is shaky
As I strive for words,
Words within the tumbled mass
Of my mind.
These almond shaped eyes,
My nose, with a strange structure:
Not quite Chinese
Nor English;
I did not choose.
My love for him
And my love for her
Make me a vulnerable target.
My short hair
And masculine nature
And determination to be a boy
Separate me,
Exclude me and expose me to
The taunts
And the teasing;
The shoves,
The pushes.
The crowding and the touching
Until I scream, tear my vocal chords
And burst my lungs:
"Leave me alone!"

Spinning,
Falling,
Stumbling
Against the force.
Tears burning my eyes,
Cheeks burning
Against the pain.
Skin leaking blood
From the scratches
Inflicted by nails.
Where do I stand in this?
I am the blunt of your anger,
I know for sure.
Anger
That is not my responsibility.
A recipient of hatred
For aspects
That I cannot control.
My world crumbling,
Self-confidence shattering,
Spiraling into depression,
Depths of suicide
And self-loathing.
Taciturnity
And numbness.
Until the world is nothing
More than a blurred picture,
Far from my grasp.

Please, tell me:
What have I done wrong?
How have I hurt you?
Why do I deserve this?
For I do not understand.
Where have I fallen?
What have I done?

The world
Is out of control,
Spinning from my grasp.
Routine is broken;
Vision filled with
An intense red.
The dread begins.

Sounds sharp and loud;
Light stabbing knives;
Confusion,
Chaos,
Disorder.
Panic rising;
Anger bubbling;
Fear brewing;
Hatred invading.

Erupting screams,
Primal and animal,
Ripping through my vocal chords.
Sinking teeth into flesh,
Feeling the pain
Shoot through my arm.
My fists smash against my body;
Nails clawing into skin;
Head cracking onto the floor.
Tears blur my vision,
Pouring down my burning cheeks,
Dripping to the floor
To form tiny puddles.

Calm down! Get a grip!
Shut up, shut up!
You broke my routine,
And took your *******
Anger out on me!
Made my life hell.
Nothing works
And I hate you;
Leave me alone!

Losing control
To the emotions
That forever dominate;
And the shutdowns
That render me mute.
The world is in chaos and disorder!
Through the jumbled thoughts,
And ravaging emotions:
Anger,
Hatred,
Fear,
And panic.
I can hear a small voice,
Somewhere in the darkness:
“It’s just another meltdown,
Once you are calm
Everything will be fine.”
Running from people,
Locking myself away:
An endless cycle
Of fear and dread.
Of another one of them:
A ******* meltdown!