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Emma 2d
He stands like a mountain, unmoving,
carved from the stone of resolve,
his back turned to the whispers of yesterday.
Between him and the past lies a chasm,
a gulf no word or weeping can bridge.
His eyes are cast upon the horizon,
not with longing, but with defiance,
as if to forbid the sun from setting.

He is a vessel of will,
unshaken by the tempests of doubt.
The earth beneath him bears no roots,
for he has buried the seeds of memory deep,
turning the soil with hands unyielding.
He carries no questions,
only the certainty of his path.

The light of my soul falls upon his shadow,
but he does not turn.
“Walk,” he commands, his voice steady as stone,
and I walk,
my feet striking the earth he has shaped,
the echoes of my steps swallowed
by the silence he wields.

Behind me, he remains,
a sentinel, a hunter,
his hands heavy with the tools of finality.
He stands among the echoes of voices unheard,
the promise of thunder held in his gaze.
He does not falter,
for his is the burden of knowing.

And I, trembling in the shadow of his presence,
feel the weight of his unspoken truths.
He is the storm that loves,
the abyss that holds,
the force that binds me to this earth.
Though I fear his silence,
I know no other home.
I am in a very loving relationship but sometimes he scares me. I know we all have our quirks but he has a mix of ASD and psychopath in him, though he keeps himself under strict control. Funnily enough his calm demeanor comfort's me.
Struggling in school everyday,
Feeling like I'm behind.
Struggling with basic math,
teachers making fun of me.
Hurting deep,
Not receiving any support I need.
Why does my brain work differently?
Teachers, students bullying me,
Is it my fault?

The pain runs deep,
With no one to understand.
Why does my brain work in ways they can't see?
Am I broken? Am I stupid?

Laughter echoes when I stumble,
Words like knives, they cut me thin.
I wonder, is this my fault?

Students, teachers bullying me,
How long will it last?
actual story i have to go through everyday
Lumin Guerrero Dec 2024
I wish I knew how to be a person.

To you, it seems to be second nature
And yet to me, it seems like a sacred craft
To which I don't have ancestral access to
A foreign language
That'd take me a masterclass to learn
A calculated dance
Whose music I am deaf to,
While you have this mesmerizing choreography that you didn't even have to practice.

I can try to imitate,
Copy-paste your manerisms, sayings, even tone
But it's clearly ingenuine on me
and so very exhausting.

How can you do this and enjoy it?
Free flowing laughs and excited speech.
You shine, so bright and proud,
Not noticing how your light is making a shadow of me.

It's sad,
frustrating,
lonely.
Lonely to be a human
But not know how to be a person.
Yourshadow Dec 2024
I may not be paranoid
But I check every room before I walk in

I may not be schizophrenic
But I always feel like something is behind me

I may not be depressed
But I don’t want to be alive much longer

I may not be an highly sensitive person
But I cry all day long because I feel everything

I may not have anger issues
But I hit and cut myself to keep it inside

I may not have an ed
But I stave and binge myself until it hurts

I may not have anxiety
But I am always scared of everything

I have autism
And all those things I mentioned
are because of it
Lumin Guerrero Dec 2024
i am screaming
screaming out to you

why can't you hear me?
just listen.

you say you can't hear me
because i am screaming in silence

and i cant expect people to hear me
if i'm not saying anything at all.

how is it that, inside me
its so **** loud,

and yet i can't manage to get it outside.
i can't get people to hear.

i guess its sad if people are so limited by their senses
while i am able to experience all the infinite forms of communication.

or, maybe its sad for me.
because even if i can communicate in all these infinite ways,

it makes it hard to find the one in which
they can hear me

screaming
in silence.
verbal communication is difficult for reasons i can't explain, and so i speak through art and metaphors.
unfortunately, this isn't most's performed method of communication.
Nigdaw Dec 2024
I look back at the wreckage
of my life
mass of twisted emotion
car crash of desire
watching the beauty of bridges
burning out in the night
how can you understand me
when I barely know who I am
searching for personality
a place to call myself
mirrored in your eyes
I'm who you're looking for
an oasis in the desert
full of the promise of disappointment
leading to so many dead ends
that never had an entrance
lets skip the intro
move on to the overture
I don't do goodbyes
just change the music
and onto the next show
I keep writing about Autism, hoping I'll find an explanation that makes sense to me.
Flea Dec 2024
This I would read
As it was up to my speed
At recess while the other kids were
Beating eachother up
And torment one and other
While I was when one the beaten
And tormented
I took to studying law
During recess in
Avoidance of the bullies
This.... this was
My mother's idea
Sara Barrett Nov 2024
I have traversed untamed landscapes,
Where each step became a dialogue with the earth—
A delicate negotiation of trust and healing.
Roots intertwined with silent, profound stories,
Grounding me in resilience,
Stories of my ****** assault are now embedded in the soil.

Rocks stood silent, bearing witness to the relentless bullying and gaslighting.
Their stillness echoed the weight of those memories and the growth that followed—
Unyielding yet steady, much like the strength I built with every step.

In this journey, I grappled with self-discovery,
Navigating the boundaries of my being,
Especially as an autistic soul in a world that often misunderstood me.
Each struggle revealed new layers of my identity,
As I sought to understand my place amidst the noise.

The weight of expectations felt heavy,
But I learned to carve out spaces where I could breathe.
My peace was no gentle stream;
It was a summit earned through struggle—
Vast, unyielding, and hard-won.

As I ascended this demanding peak,
The view stretched far beyond the horizon,
Revealing landscapes of healing,
Belonging to all who had climbed beside me.
From this vantage point, I saw how our journeys intersected,
Each of us is a testament to perseverance.

I welcomed others not for comfort,
But for their courage,
Those willing to face the rough terrain,
Understanding that climbing meant shouldering the weight
And sharing breaths.

Belonging was not a destination;
It was a connection—a living, breathing understanding.
Our paths twisted and turned,
Yet they ran parallel, rooted in the same soil
Of shared struggle and triumph.

What I learned was this:
We do not belong by walking the same path,
But by the act of walking itself.
By moving, by simply being,
We claimed our place in the world.

Once, I sought familiar steps but found only uncharted terrain.
Now, every trail I walk becomes a bridge to cross.
And with each step, the earth beneath me whispers:
I am not alone.
This powerful poem explores the journey of healing and self-discovery through the metaphor of navigating untamed landscapes. It reflects on the impact of trauma—specifically ****** assault and bullying—on identity, particularly from the perspective of an autistic individual. The imagery of roots and rocks symbolizes resilience and the shared weight of experiences, highlighting that true belonging emerges not from similar paths but from the collective act of moving forward together.
Sara Barrett Nov 2024
Months burst with potential understanding
Thyroid, Childhood Cancer, Breast Cancer
And Autism - a landscape of perception
I knew little once
Before lived experiences carved pathways
Of comprehension
Hand flapping, repeated movie scenes
Specific sensory needs
Neurological landscapes diverse as humanity itself
From verbal to non-verbal
From sibling to parent
From self-discovery at 34
My perspective widens like a lens
Societal Echoes
The world whispers harsh narratives
"Discipline them"
"Fix them"
"Normalize"
But we are not broken
We are different
Intricate neural networks
Misunderstood symphonies
Digital age amplifies cruelty
Marginalization becomes performance
Awareness transforms to spectacle,
Unfolding Truth
Intricate neural pathways
Misread as discordant tunes
The digital age sharpens cruelty's edge
Marginalization dressed as entertainment
Awareness turned into spectacle,
A truth slowly unraveling
Hatred cloaked in the guise of compassion
Bigotry masquerading as care
April - a month of performative understanding
We see what others refuse to witness
Complexity beyond simple categorization
Humanity in all its beautiful, challenging variations
Spectrum wide as consciousness
Unbound by neurotypical constraints
This poem weaves together themes of personal growth, neurodiversity, and societal misconceptions, offering a heartfelt journey through lived experiences. It challenges narratives of "fixing" or "normalizing," instead celebrating the beauty and complexity of different neurological landscapes. Through its vivid imagery and poignant reflections, the piece critiques performative awareness and the digital age's role in amplifying cruelty, while advocating for true acceptance and understanding. A tribute to the resilience and humanity of those who navigate a world that often misunderstands them.
Melissa Phillips Sep 2024
I'll never forget you
But I'm scared that they will
Those lives that you touched
Have lives to live still

I can't really blame them
You were my precious light
But those who just knew you
Out of mind out of sight

I know that I really
Shouldn't think this  but still
I see that their lives
Have to move on and will

As your mom I'm aware
That I loved you the most
But as the days and years go by
To them you're a ghost

I know that this won't be
An intentional thing
But there's thousands of new memories that the passing time brings

But you'll always be here in my heart and my mind
And your precious light
Will shine for all time.

Written with all my love for Micah Daniel,  my son, my bright light,  my miracle....
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