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andromeda x Sep 2021
bright lights, background noise
all blurs into one big wall
my brain can’t process
all these things at once
I stare at other girls
copy their mannerisms
hiding myself
from the outside world
when I get home
I run into my room
take of this mask that I’ve worked so hard
to develop
only to hide everything about myself
everything that makes me me
just so I don’t get laughed at
made fun of
again
I feel like an alien
dropped down on an unfamiliar earth
having to fit in
pretending to be like everyone else
but not understanding
a single thing
sarcasm, cues, it’s all bologna
where are these rules written
give me the book
I’ll study it forever and still not get it
but at least I’ll seem normal
right?
I stop myself when I get too excited
my dad gives me a weird look
when I talk about the brain
an infinitely complex ***** that contains our whole life
my body is a mere appendix
I tell my friends about Latin etymology
did you know the hippocampus is named after the seahorse?
I hold my hands tightly
to prevent myself from shaking them around
like I want to
social hierarchy
what is it
how does it work and how do you know it
how many seconds do I stare into your eyes
my seven-two rule I sometimes despise
I immerse myself in fictional worlds
observing the characters
how they talk smile and move
taking notes
making flashcards
all to appear
normal
did it work?
it must have, right?
been fooling everyone for sixteen years
and it’s taking its toll
on me
it’s hard
it was easier when I was a kid
you just play beside another kid
but now there are rules I have never learnt
sarcasm is more prevalent
just smile and laugh right?
but what if you can’t even identify it
always never enough
criticism is my worst enemy
my grades have to be perfect but why
why
I’m the smartest person in any room
I’ve ever been in
but I have to appear normal
normal
neurotypical
allistic
hiding myself
but why
imagine a world where everyone
was like me
and this mask would never
even have existed
there would be no stress
I’d already fit right in
perfectly
no mask
no hiding
flapping my hands and talking
about the brain
about moths
about criminal minds
without judgement
it sounds like a dream
it actually was
but this world is far more difficult
I walk through a mall shutting myself in
because if I don’t I’ll explode
I close my eyes right as the bright flood lights pierce my brain
I smile as the background noise hits me like a wall of unfamiliar loud pain
I hide it well
sometimes
after a while it gets bad
I run and find a dark store
a worker asks me what do you need today
I run back out and feel bad for days
people talking, coins rattling
it all blends together
I can’t imagine a world
where it doesn’t
where my parents would let me
wear my headphones
without taunting me
a world where I have never been called
*******
stupid
******
loser
sensitive
from everyone
I can mask well
and that’s my downfall
because nobody ever notices
how hard I struggle
deciphering these looks
their tone of voice
they’re joking right?
years later I realize they weren’t
they were making fun of me
but you see
I wouldn’t change my brain
believe it or not
it is who I am
the feeling of telling people about my interests, watching my favourite tv shows, happy stimming, listening to music, my near perfect memory, recognizing patterns in everything
it’s a blessing and a curse
but it’s who I am
I couldn’t imagine life without the excitement and passion I have now
the feeling of flapping my hands and jumping
nothing beats that
the brain blur and tingle
the dopamine flooding my brain
it can be good
even if the bad is still there
this world wasn’t designed for me
and I’m starting to realize that
it was designed to exclude me
other people must look at me and think wow
she’s so strange
but I’m thinking the same about them
they walk around and go to parties
how are you? I’m doing well, how are you?
it’s nonsensical
I’ve learned to copy them
but at what cost
is losing myself worth it all
unmasking is incredible
but it can be dangerous
the bullying, the criticism
even from your own parents
can sting
everything I’ve ever been called as an insult
I remember it
I remember it all
I wish people could understand
I’m not Sheldon Cooper
I’m not a robot
I probably have more emotion than you
I show it differently
I put on this mask to prevent hate
from this society
that is so ableist
sixteen years of my life I’ve fooled everyone
I wish I could go back and start over
be the little alien I felt like inside
not worry about the monsters
because they weren’t under my bed
they were everywhere else
it doesn’t really rhyme but just some of my thoughts- this is how it feels to be autistic.
SUDHANSHU KUMAR Aug 2021
An autistic boy,
In search of his existence,
Fighting life alone...
Autism is a mental disorder. A person suffering with this disorder finds it hard to interact with society or individuals. It's very hard for them to communicate with others...
They repeat theirselves again and again in the state of panic and anxiety... But a study suggests that autistic persons are extraordinary and super intelligent...


This haiku is inspired by a Turkish Drama Series "MUCIZE DOKTOR"... will soon be writing a full length poem on AUTISM...
Mimmi Jan 2021
It's like I know the problem

I see the problem

But I don't understand the definition of what a problem is

I see three thousand windows to houses I don't recognize

And now I'm back at square one and I have no clue




"Fattar ingenting"

Det är som att jag vet problemet
Ser problemet,
Men förstår inte vad problem är,
Ser tretusen fönster till hus jag inte känner igen.
Och nu är jag tillbaka på ruta ett och fattar ingenting.
Translation of one of my Swedish poems
Blake Feb 2021
I know why I was running as fast as I could
I know why I still felt as though I wasn’t good
When everyone else understood what was said
While I was thinking what’s wrong with my head

The signs were all there
I wish I had known
I wish I had seen them
Each time they had shown

No I am not lazy
Nor am I dumb
I am not broken
And there’s no need to run.

Yes I still need them
To speak to me different,
I need things explained to me
Slowly,  just need a second

My brain works differently
And I sense more than most
I hear the electricity
Louder than your voice when you talk

There’s no race that I’m running
So I can’t be behind
I do things my own way
that works for my mind

I’m different than them
But that’s nothing wrong
I’ve learned a lot about me
And who I’ve been all along

I am at peace now
I know where I belong
I’ve found others just like me
I’m not helpless after all
I am just me
And you are just you
And we are both different
Your needs are special too.
Finding out I’m autistic was finding out everything about me and all of it suddenly making sense. I know why I never understood things the same as those around me
Mimmi Jan 2021
Sometimes I wish
That I had a Sign

Like a constant notepad
For people to read

Maybe then they would try to
Listen a little closer

But I wear the silent bells now
Calling with my empty voice

The room gets bigger
But I feel suffocated

Fidgeting with no fingers
Bleeding nails of yesterday

Or mere seconds ago
I spin walk around in an oval shape with edges

Sometimes I wish for an open wound
Needing care

People bring bandage to a funeral
And flowers to a wedding

Pictures of the beautiful ******
Ignoring the anxiety cloud of a Girl

I get through the sorl of breaths and coffe
The sounds of the red light klonking loudly

Breaking through my headphones

Sometimes I really wished they could see
See my constant struggle to survive in this neurotypical World
Sometimes I get frustrated by the fact that my autism is invisible to the naked eye.
My daily and minute by minute struggle of life.
Every autistic person is different, I am still exploring all of my autistic and ADD sides and finding new versions of stimming, fidgeting and difficulties that I have unconsciously been masking.
I am scared for my Life and
Our Oath will keep both of us
Safe till I build orphanages,
old people's homes and
till our songs gets Grammies, B.E.Tz and
a special place on the internet!

I decree
All Poets, Musicians, Artists and Listeners are Prophets if not Prophetic!
Chris Calkins Jan 2018
once upon a time
i thought that if i scratched away at my skin hard enough
i could peel the layers far enough back
to reveal someone else inside
someone who wouldn't be judged
someone who was some semblance
of normal
it didn't work
because there is no normal in me
there is only pain and confusion and fear
now all that's left of those
happier times
are the scars that litter my body
like a trashcan
tipped in the wind
Ashwin Kumar Apr 2020
Thirty years and counting
Every day, as life goes on
A fiery battle rages
In my mind, heart and soul
Conflicting thoughts and emotions
Wage an unholy war
Armed with a billion weapons
Far more destructive than nuclear bombs
The resulting carnage threatens
A result far worse than a Dementor's Kiss
You know, I never asked for this
I never asked to be born autistic
Of course, it is good to be different
But, does everybody appreciate this difference?
In India, the society judges you
Based on what you speak
However, my mouth is blessed
With an ability to turn
Anything that it touches, into stone
Resulting in decades of social anxiety
If only wishes were horses
I would be in Britain
Where actions speak louder than words
After all, not for nothing
Was King George VI one of the finest rulers
In spite of being born
With the handicap of a speech defect?

Thirty years and counting
Everybody seems to like me
Everybody seems to think I'm nice
Up to a point, that is
The moment I dare
To step out of my threshold
The moment I dare
To break codes of conformity
The moment I dare
To question any form of injustice
Is the moment of truth
It is the moment
When everybody shows their true colours
It is the moment
I stop being nice
Instead; I am angry, disturbed, jealous
Naive, immature, unreliable
Confused, weird, crazy
And the list goes on and on
With no end in sight

Thirty years and counting
I have seen enough
I have heard enough
I have felt enough
The time has finally come
For an internal independence struggle
Gone are the days
When I was busy being a 'Yes Man'
Now, if you have a problem with me
I can only tell you this
Tomorrow, you may find
A pill of cyanide
In your cup of coffee
Or a cobra in your shoulder bag
Or a bullet in your temple
Or a bomb in your briefcase
The choice is entirely yours, my dears
This poem has a dark ending, and a Harry Potter reference.
Kelly Sims Jun 2019
-Relax
-Calm,be calm young one

I heard the strangers voice, and having no frame of  reference with which to originate myself within my surroundings, I readily took heed to these soothing words. Only to soon find my senses entirely overwhelmed as my mind and my body caught up to each other at the same moment. Feeling the most unusually bizarre sensation of having been just previously located fully within my mind. Panic set in as I found myself naked on some distant planet who's surface was composed disproportionately of foose; extremely fine grained sand. The only feature that stood out in any way was the stump of an obviously dead tree. The stranger ,who I realised was actually seated crossed legged and floating some 6 - 8 feet above the barren surface of the desolate moonscape. He continued to re-insure me of my safety and I was in no danger. I had started to hyperventilate and grew ever so close to losing my vision .When the stranger reminded me that breathing was not necessary in the journey we were  sharing and was he was going stay with me to ensure my trust guarantee, my return to my  body I had  known prior to this remarkable experience.
L May 2019
She was kind to me once. Just once.
And when I clung to that kindness, she went so quiet.
"I don't want that" she'd mean to say,
but only with the absence of words did she ever speak to me.
And I, ever so lost
(like Alice if Alice were to speak a different language than the flowers and rabbit)
understood that death was at the end of this.
Death was the finish line, and I was sprinting in the dark.
Where was the end? I didn't know.
I didn't know anything.

The woman in the Mexican soap opera had cancer.
"This is it" I thought. "I am close to death".
It wasn't cancer. It wasn't anything.

"How will I escape death?" I thought.

"Death." I thought.

I thought I'd have to die to avoid death.

Unspoken language means nothing to Alice, Kim.
For you are Rabbit, and your need has fallen on deaf ears, on torn open heart, on Alice, on death, on death,

on me.



-
Unresolved trauma from 3 years ago.
Only now am I able to talk about it.
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