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Feel me

Branch out

You live

Apathetically

You’re a charlatan

Who dwells

One sidedly

Dark sidedly

Think you spew vitriolic criticism

Just abysmal blabber

You’re like an infant without wonder

You’re a void for joyousness

You’re incontinent of your blabber

Of your verbal feces

And vile thoughts

Read the room

We’re sick of your ****

The only depth you have

Is how low you make everyone

You’re so dismal

Break free

From your own restraints

And you can scintillate

Beauty can always root

Where horridness once dwelled
Dante Jul 4
It occurs to me that I cannot move forward while existing in the hellscape that is the absence of love.

I’ve never received love. I’ve always been a stranger to it. Very rarely have I received the smaller parts that make up the whole that is love: things like justice, recognition, trust and commitment are things that have always been absent in my relationships with others and myself. My mother kept me isolated from the world because she lacked the empathy to understand that I was a being separate from her. I was, in some quiet, unconscious way, a burden to her. From her I knew care, but little more. I was fed, given a room with a bed, even video games and a computer. I was kept alive. But I knew nothing of emotional connection; there was no recognition in what she would call her loving. I was never seen, only kept. When the cruelties of the world outside our home beat my body and mind until something cracked, and they reached inside of me to find my innocence and steal it, there was no justice. Justice, which is a necessary component of love. She would punish me instead, by making it clear how disgusting I was to her- I, who was six, and eight, and thirteen- for seeking out things I was being taught were love, or she would remain quiet in her words and actions. Adults all around me abused me. My only parent, teachers and relatives were all abusing me in a world where children my age were told adults were protectors, and teachers “second parents”, like my mother would tell me.

I don’t think it’s possible to heal without knowing love.
I’ve worked to “improve” myself- a word I’m now beginning to think should have been “heal”- for years. Obsessively, to a fault. Multiple times a day, I would write something new, a new note, something I’d realized I was doing wrong and needed “fixing”- a dangerous word when referring to the modification of the self.
This could be called care. But nothing else. Similar to how my mother cared for me but didn’t know (or would often refuse) to offer me the rest of the parts needed to form the whole that is love, I gave myself only parts of it. I didn’t love myself because I didn’t know how to. My definition of love had its foundations in the actions of my abusers. The love I gave myself was rendered unkind by the lack of my protectors’ understanding of love, their abuse, and what they taught me love was.

I worked so ******* trying to “fix” myself that this care became a kind of torture. I wouldn’t punish myself so much as I would work myself into exhaustion. It’s a subject too complex and full to delve into right now, but this, and every stressor in my life, was exacerbated by the fact that I am autistic. This is a definition I don’t entirely agree with but for the sake of conciseness I’ll say it– If you can imagine being born without a single tool to navigate the world, that is what autism is. I had to build much of what others know instinctively. This makes for an extremely confusing and terrifying childhood, even without abuse from an outside source. Due to the nature of autism, it can in itself be a kind of trauma. There are no known solutions to the issues it presents. In my rigorous self-studying (and observation of other autistic people I’ve known over the years), I’ve understood the core issues of autism and how to correctly- that is, naturally- arrive at the peace we so desperately need. I’ll write about it some day.

Autism made my life in isolation harder than it would be for those who aren’t autistic. Understanding the world without some kind of guidance was virtually  impossible for me. For a lot of autistic people, it remains impossible until death. I still need guidance in certain situations, mainly when in public or when feelings of stress cause regression, stripping me of my learned skills and pushing me into confusion and purely logic-based solutions (which only serve to offer relief in a short-term manner).

Only recently, within the last month, did I learn to approach self growth in better ways. Negativity is something I can now sit with, without fear of it. I listen to it, observe it. I always knew this is what should be done with feelings of negativity, but I wasn’t capable of it. I want to say that the only reason I became able to do this was because I was shown parts of love I had been refused all my life.
Recognition, justice, and a little bit of affection were all that I needed to move forward in my journey of becoming.
It was as if I had been waiting eagerly for years to know these fragments of love, so that I could finally work to modify the parts of me that needed modifying. The second I was shown this kindness, I felt I knew exactly how to use it. The gates had opened and I was sprinting, because finally, finally I could move forward. It was admittedly chaotic at first; I was overflowing with love in an overactive, confused state. The change for me was great and sudden, and difficult to manage. It was overwhelming, but I mostly settled into it after. Suddenly I was capable of accepting love, and was excited to give it. The kind words of strangers finally felt true; little positive messages left for anyone to read online were now a love I could accept and use. I looked through them and held their love in my arms, carrying it to my bed that day I remember feeling so sad and lonely. For the first time in years I wasn’t afraid of my sadness, of my loneliness, of my fear- of the results of my loveless life. I simply sat and cared for myself, and there was nothing lacking in my loving. I loved myself fully for one day.

The positive change in me that came from being given the fragments of love that had been absent all my life- justice, recognition and affection- lasted a month. Some part of me tells me that I should wait more to write about this, because right now is the end of that month.

The love has stopped, and I find myself in need of it again, and I’m wondering if I can survive by learning to give it to myself. Every time I wonder this, I think it’s impossible. That I’ll eventually reach that gate again, that my journey of becoming will inevitably stop. Self-love is made possible when we know what it is to be loved. I think this. I think this now.
Love cannot be built in isolation. I will need to be loved in order to continue loving myself. I’m too eager to continue my journey, I think. This is natural, but it leads to unpleasant things that might repel others and keep me from being loved. I’ve begged- an unbecoming, often disrespectful act. I’m desperate, but also unwilling to hurt anyone with my suffering.
It’s hard to know how to ask for kindness. It’s harder yet, as an autistic person. I want to ask for it, but something in me tells me doing this is rude. And the tension I feel from thinking this creates an unbearable stress as it grows into an unsolvable doubt: What about asking for something I need is rude? Is it possible to ask for fragments of love tactfully, without this rudeness? Is there something my autism isn’t letting me see?
There often is. The problem here then becomes, “I need a guidance most people do not need, and I know that asking for it is undesirable to others. I will be punished for needing.” Sometimes I don’t need this guidance. When I’m happy and safe, I can function independently more often. But happiness and safety are things one feels when loved. My dilemma is a paradox.

I’m tired of my loveless life. I wish for nothing more than to be able to love and be loved, because I am tired of lovelessness, because I am eager to know the terror of loving, eager to learn with someone to hold and be held, to commit love. I want to love and be loved because I am human, and because I think that at the end of lovelessness, there must be a kind of death, and I want so badly to live.
Perhaps if I weren’t autistic, my search would be less difficult and painful. I feel as if I am punished for needing, because most people do not need the things I need, and needing them is seen as a sign of rudeness, an inconsiderate nature or just plain incapacity, which are all undesirable traits.

My fear is to be undesirable for who I am. I can’t write it without crying. My fear is to be told I shouldn’t be touched because I can’t touch, that I shouldn’t be trusted because I can’t stop masking, that I shouldn’t be loved because I can’t love.
And I feel that all I can say is that I swear I can learn, if only you’ll give me the chance. I am willing to. And I’m sorry to beg, because I know it isn’t very good or beautiful, but please stay a while, so that I may allow myself to be defenseless and bare, like love requires one to be, like I long to be. If you must leave then go, but if you have the patience to spare, please use it on me. Because if at the bottom of lovelessness, there is only some death, I don’t want to ever know it. I don’t want to get any closer to it.
Maia May 28
If we leave here not knowing
Where life will be going,
Love,
Remember that if all fails
Fall back on the fact
That we are growing.
Always.
David N Juboor Dec 2015
My mom
Tells me I'm a gift.

She says love
Is what keeps the atoms
In you and I
Is the moment
She caught my
Father's eye
Is the day
My grandfather died
With a candy kiss on his cheek
She had never tasted something so sweet.

When we were little
We played kickball,
The ground is lava
And hide-and-go-seek.
As I grew I knew most days,
It was harder to find myself;
Let alone somebody else.

And I have been around
Enough center city playgrounds
To see the rich
Pump every bit of spare change
In their veins fighting
A cancer that they
Never learned to put in their past.
To see the poor
Wage wars with themselves
Trying to pick up
Way too much,
Way too fast;

Nobody really knows how to make love last.

So put your prism your heart
Beneath the moonlight.
Refract the wavelengths
Of your wonders
Into ROYGB-eautiful like the sea,
It took a lot of jellyfish to let
people see through me.

And even more mirrors
To find a place I was comfortable
Praying in.

Fraying in doorways
Where I learned hope,
Is looking both ways
On a one way street
Cause it can be so easy to thank God
While you still have bread to eat.

I have never prayed
So hard for a healthy meal
Than the days I remember
The heart is a muscle;
And sometimes the only
Thing we need
Is to "work it out."

And I know that some days,
My doubt hangs my
Smile like Jesus Christ
I never quite learned
How to bleed right.

But if there's one thing
I found from cleaning
The crosses out of the
Empty hallway of my character
Is that you haven't experienced loss
Until you've held two outstretched arms
For years waiting for your innocence to come back.
Nothing, weighs more than the guilt of your past
And nothing throws punches
Faster than the ghost of who you used to be.

And I know it's hard
To stop looking for yourself
Under every bed you
Left nightmares in
And I know it's hard
To be comfortable
In your own skin

But sometimes bars
Aren’t the only thing
That builds a cage
And sometimes
The only way to live
With yourself
Is to stop digging
Your own grave.

You can spend years
Listening to morticians
And never get grounded.
Surrounded by the
Square roots we all share,
By the same air,
We've all got to learn to let go.

To learn that
Holding your breath
Has never been how
Living things
Learn to
Grow
"We're all hurtling towards death, yet here we are for the moment, alive. Each of us knowing we're going to die, each of us secretly believing we won't"
A girl danced in the wildflowers, beneath the big oak tree,
Chasing after butterflies, only to let them go free.

This would be a moment she’d return to in her mind,
When everything around her grew dark and life was not so kind.

A time where hoping was like waiting for summer to come,
She wanted it to stay all year, but the leaves fell and the flowers died; her spirit came undone.

The moment she learned the lesson that you can give too much love away,
You see, people are shallow and yearn for the light and they’ll take it, to make their night day.

A man she called father taught her the arduous art of forgiveness,
If he hurt her, left her in a dark hospital room        alone         , who could care less?

A loyal daughter should understand that if he has wings, she must watch him fly, even from her grave
And time would tell her that all her expectations were a waste; in the end he’s the one she’ll save.

When home felt less like home, and more like memory lane
And walking there was crippling, all it brought was pain.

But all this time, the world just turned,
And a thousand lessons she has learned.

Like summer needs the winter,

And the time you spend on blame,
Overlooks your gain
smile flower Mar 24
loneliness makes my veins hurt. like as if they are being drained of the blood inside of them. loneliness makes my eyes tear up, with all the fluids I drank today to make myself look preoccupied in order for people not to think I'm a loner. I feel lonely.... and it *****.

I want to go out with a friend, I wish I had a friend. I want to feel love, not the bf/gf type of love but any love. I want to be loved, I want to be cared for by someone other than my mother who has to love me. I want to not sit alone in my room and cry about being lonely.

I want self growth, I want to be the person I've always wanted to be. someone who is happy and contempt in life. I feel scared and alone. I'm scared of facing reality and the fact that no one cares about me. I'm scared to go to graduation because no one but my mom and brother will cheer for me, I'm scared of that because I'll be embarrassed and probably drop my diploma out of frustration. I'm scared to grow up. im scared to face the even more free time I'll have to fill with self pity in college.

I have to get a job soon and I'm scared ill **** up. I'm scared to do anything that will embarrass me. I dont want to go to a new environment. I want to be able to be happy In a place i know. that's why I regret quiting my job, I knew how it worked and how to do things. but now I'll have to embarrass myself working at a new place. meet new people. fake smile at new customers. fake smile at myself in the mirror.

I always complain and never try to make a change.

as I write this my veins hurt, my heart feels weird. I read last night that loneliness can ****. I tried to die last September, but that was on my own agenda.

I'm not sure if I want to die just simply because my heart couldn't take the fact that no one wanted to be around me. it hurts.

I'm tired of the pain. I am so tired of this constant feeling in my veins that makes me want to rip them out.
this is a poem I wrote a while ago while I felt helpless, I'm a bit better now but just reading this makes me remember the pain I felt. the throbbing pain in my veins, maybe it was stress from everything or maybe loneliness really made me feel physical pain.

either way I never want to experience that kind of pain again.
allison Mar 5
like a phoenix
i'm reborn
from the ashes of who
i used to be.

I went to check up on you today
but then like fate, my hand stopped me
so I didn't see what you were up to
for the better.

like a phoenix
i'm reborn
from the ashes of who
i used to be.

I'm the happiest I've been in weeks
Today I did something that I could've let
ruin me
but instead I held my head high and
didn't let it affect me.

like a phoenix
i'm reborn
from the ashes of who
i used to be.

my friend told me
that he saw self improvement
in me that i didn't pick up on
until he said it,

and now i see...
like a phoenix
i'm reborn
from the ashes of who
i used to be.
i'm growing as a person and I couldn't be happier :)
Meghan Young Jan 12
We use to be wound tight like two vines wrapped around another. We laugh, we cried, we were messes at time. Then the one day you got yourself a precious new flower. You guys began to bud together. Eventually that wilted and we grew back together. Months later you got a new budding partner and you began to grow with him. Yet, you seem to forget all your partners. You forgot who helped you grow into this beautiful flower. I gave you so much sunlight in order to see you blossom into your true self. You forgot and left me to wilt away with winter. I helped you grow through everything. I told you patience and time will allow a partner. Yet. In the end i didnt mattee to you. My vine is shriveling and my petals hit the ground. I wasnt dying because of you. I was dying because i realized you never wanted to see me grow, the way i wanted to see your grow.

Now im starting to bud and grow alone without you. Im wrapping around and becoming a flower without you. I deserve sunlight now. I deserve a friend who actually cares. I deserve someone to save me from myself. You have fun blossoming with your new partner. I'm happy your growing and one day maybe when im truly gone forever, you'll realize how much i was there, or maybe not.
Thank you for the growing lessons. Its time for me to blossom.
This is still a rough draft till i have someone look it over and i find different words and such! Its about a friendship i was in and how I tried my everything to help them but they didnt care to see it. Or care about me back.
Derrick Jones Aug 2018
My words start as vapor
eventually coalescing and manifesting themselves on paper
but they are never really finished, they just diminish
until slow enough for me to catch
and dispatch them for my own use
but the truth is that I am just taking snapshots of a train of thought
that stretches to infinity
that is complexity and humanity
that is me, and so much more
I go floating through the door
I am ten feet off the floor
Drifting toward the atmosphere
Not there, nor here
I am near and I am far
I rise up to the stars
So high that I can see the earth
So small and insignificant
Yet utterly magnificent
It’s a matter of perspective
Consciousness is collective
So my view is not new
It is you, and all of them too
One is a universe, two is a crowd
Seven billion heads inside the cloud
Causing blizzards and acid rain
Never pausing our lizard brains
Paws and claws and vicious maws
Tearing at our sanity
Glaring enemies of clarity
We strive for perfect parity
But we are but a mess
evolution made us malcontents
We are revolutionary dissidents
Overburdened by stress
Too afraid to confess
So we swim in sorrow and silence
A waking nightmare, a quiet violence
When the path out becomes clear
You will hear a resounding cheer
As the human race takes its rightful place among the stars
No longer our own adversaries
We will traverse the universe
Going supernova with rhyme and verse
No more fear for the reaper or the hearse
No tears, we will find freedom from the curse
And each person will feel peace
Perching on Saturn’s rings
But only if we stop clinging to the ground
To the weights that hold us down
Weightless we can face this
We can stare into the sun
See that the journey has just begun
Shine bright like enlightened beings
Light enough to float through the ceiling
Might be tough when your mind is reeling
But it is just a feeling that will pass
once you fly into the firmament
And finally find enlightenment
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
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