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Kelly O'Toole May 2019
I tiptoe across the floor,
I sway side to side.
I like to feel different textures, but some they make me cry.
I'm also a fussy eater, my beans can't touch my egg.
And god help you if you think I'm eating all that veg.
Bath time can be stressful,
I don't like water on my head.
It makes me feel weird and gives me a shear dread.
I know what's coming next,
The comb to my head.
I don't like the prickles, they feel just like the trickles.
The towel may be warm, but it irritates my skin.
The clothes are nice and bright but they just feel too tight.
My socks are never right,
My shoes rub off my skin.
The light flickers and the walls are caving in.
The music is thumping.
My head is pounding.
My mind is racing.
I feel agitated.
Panic has set in.
And my heart it is throbbing.
The humming of the oven,
The wish wash of the machine.
The dripping of the tap,
The whistle of the birds.
The bark of the dogs,
The cries of the baby.
The whispering of the walls.
I need my safe space.
I need to calm down.
I may self soothe as your touch could feel crude.
My emotions are overwhelming.
I can feel all the tears, it's like I'm drowning, so please stay near.
I try to do good, but I get frustrated.
No one sees my struggle, because I don't know how to say it.
I'm like a ticking bomb, ready to unleash thunder.
I scream, I roar, I hit, I kick.
I bite with all my might.
But I am in fright.
It's from the fight or flight.
But I am a gentle being,
Misunderstood it seems.
I might not like my toys,
But you bring me so much joy.
My eyes appear glazed and I may seem like I'm in a daze.
And though I might not say it, I love you in many ways.
Nancy Jan 2019
My phone’s brightness is at 0%
(but it still hurts my eyes)
My computer screen is zoomed in to 175%,
(but I still can’t comprehend a single sentence on the screen)
I have turned the volume all the way up,
(but still hear my family’s conversation as if they’re speaking through a mic)
The volume is as low as it can be without being silent,
(but it still hurts my ears)
I have cocooned myself in the softest blanket in the house,
(but it’s still so itchy I can’t sleep)
I’m pinching the webbing between my fingers as hard as I can,
(but I still can’t feel a **** thing)
And it all feels so wrong -
That I’m either turned up to eleven,
Or I don’t feel anything at all.

— The End —