#autistic
Socialising is so tiring
And draining.
The interchange a merry waltz of delight
But not for all
The hieroglyphical rules
Bewildering for some
And so I ask the following
With the hope for an answer
From the initiated
The ones with the elixir of life
What will they want to talk about this time?
Do I start the conversation?
Should I say I am ok?
Do I ask if they are too?
What do I talk about after?
Will they like what I say?
At what point do I talk?
Have I just interrupted them?
What did they think of my point of view?
Should I have sat here?
Did they want me to?
Why aren’t they speaking to me?
Can I speak now?
Is it that funny?
When is a reasonable time to leave?
What happens if I don’t laugh?
Why aren’t they letting me speak?
Can I just go home?
Please
I
Am
Drained.
Apr 12
Apr 12, 2026 at 7:12 AM UTC
She cycled through the woods. Errant branches nipped at her flying past.
It was here she was home.
The Fae child, the changeling, the ****** the quiet one.
She would be here always if she could.
Here she was safe.
Here the trees whispered and she understood.
Here the trickling streams soothed away the noise.
The noise so loud in her in-human ears.
But she couldn't stay, It was getting dark.
They would need her back.
They would need her safe.
They could never seem to see that here, in the woods, was the only place she ever felt safe.
She pulled lazily, begrudgingly, forlornly on the brakes.
The bike slowed.
Her trainers landed in soft, forgiving grass.
One last breath.
One last drag of power from the bright, fresh air.
She steeled herself and turned her bike.
No point putting off the inevitable.
She raced back to the road.
The glaring streetlamps.
The erratic cars.
The cats, the dogs, the footballs.
Rushing in all directions.
Every which way.
People. So. Many. People.
The calm of the woods retreated, abandoning as it always did.
Again she was Other.
She cycled down the familiar street, the much trodden path to purgatory.
To the never ending, incomprehensible question.
"Did you have fun at school today?"
How could she?
The concrete.
The bright, piercing lights.
The noise. Constant, incessant.
And then there was the worst of all.
People. So. Many. People.
Talking at her, infecting her nose with their fake, flowery scents.
Moving into her.
Nudging her this way and that.
Always wanting something of her.
Always the need to take.
She never knew what.
She didn't speak human.
Sometimes she managed to guess right.
A script she'd picked up over the long years of childhood.
Of watching and listening and trying to understand.
A brief reprieve when they were appeased.
But mostly she was met with confusion.
Or anger.
Or laughter.
She could never decide which was worse.
Mar 12
Mar 12, 2026 at 6:12 PM UTC
I hear, I read
Lips, black ink,
Tell me I'm
Precisely this;
Unable to understand
Expression
Unable to connect,
Empathise,
Know myself.
Watch, listen.
Do you see me
Talking in neon?
Painting soundscapes
With my hands?
This body and I
Are sisters.
Often at odds,
Never estranged.
Biblioteca
De la menta.
I am the lexicon
Of body language,
And every silent word
Of animals.
I soak up
grief hiding in your
turn of phrase.
I hold close
Your sorrow
In my breath, my chest,
My attention.
Watch, listen.
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 9:47 PM UTC
I would cry over spilled milk
But not spilled blood.
Because, the spilled milk is actively disrupting my linear and strictly constructed plan to make cereal and therefore also everything that comes after it, and I would have wasted milk and so prevented a future me from the cereal breakfast pleasure.
But, if the blood is my own, I can usually disconnect myself from the injury and just not notice, ignore, or press a paper against it to prevent bloodying everything and go on with my day with but a slight sensation in my finger. If its more dire, I'd disconnect just the same, but be slightly more irritated as it would now disrupt routine but still probably be fine. If not my own, then I'd really struggle to care, as I do not have much of the ability to transfer another's pain to myself via the superpower everyone seems to have called "empathy".
Me crying for spilled milk and not blood
does not make me alien.
It just makes me some sort of sick ******
Huh.
I think I rather just be an alien.
Dec 28, 2024
Dec 28, 2024 at 1:25 AM UTC
How much abuse faced
By the divergent kids
Not even traced
Back to the inhuman grids
The thought of difference, frightening
Coursing by the lust for control
Deforming them by touching
The most vulnerable parts of the soul
The title vulnerable graffitied over valuable
Innovation of this generation unbound
Not differently-abled, but disabled
Abuse goes on, the kids are not found
Nov 19, 2024
Nov 19, 2024 at 4:08 PM UTC
navigating a conversation
is circumnavigating a globe
a lexical darkness invokes
an expected step in the stairs
that was never there to begin with
seemingly constructed soundly
its revolving linguistic doors
halt and close shut precisely
when an attempted entrance is made
an impossibly difficult rhythm to gauge
except it seems as though everyone else can
alien colloquialisms loom
as familiar judgements rise
surrounding clapperboards echo
as larynx follows suit
interests watered down
manufactured in plastic casing
arbitrary convoluted theorems
of etiquette and mind
as clear as matte black
and as legible as handwriting in transit
as pleasant as disease
yet as necessary as water
Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 10:58 PM UTC
Justice denied
for another mind of my kind.
It hurts so much to see
the abuse over time.
It's a burden we carry
against our will.
Our hurt is an expectation
we can never fulfill.
But overcoming our "shortcomings"
is what strengthens us.
Our obstacles
are our only path.
Our unique efforts,
the only way to success.
Effort is success.
And success is being free.
And freedom is just being
the kind we were born to be.
Jul 26, 2024
Jul 26, 2024 at 3:17 PM UTC
it hurts
when you can feel an ocean inside
waves crashing into the boundaries of your mind
begging for release
to reach the shore
denying them, holding them back like a well-built dam
not a single drop gets through this facade
I’m an actor
in a role I never auditioned for
one I never wanted
one thrown upon me by the cruel hands of society
family
is this life better than none?
three months
I whisper to the face in the mirror
one I have never recognized
one that is not my own
i hope one day to look
and find myself looking back
a true reflection
real and not imagined
but for now I do my best
with whispers
the tears I cannot release
sweaters in the biggest size
corners to curl into
alone when I can imagine
how I’ll look when I’m me
not you
be friendly
personable
but always know your place
only speak when spoken to
perhaps if you behave you will find a nice husband
be a good wife
raising me in her image
it’s a facade
I’m fractured
a picture from long ago
broken and never properly repaired
the shards put back wrong
a smiling photo of a girl i don’t know
darling daughter
know your place
smile but not too long
Jun 26, 2023
Jun 26, 2023 at 12:55 PM UTC
You people never took me seriously
For you, I was just a problem child
Who needed to be molded
According to your whims and fancies
You never saw me as an individual
Who has his own thoughts, feelings and emotions
My opinions never mattered to you
You wanted me to improve my verbal communication
As well as my body language
But you never even tried to understand me properly
It never occurred to you
That there is a reason why I am different
Or even if it did, you never truly cared
What bothered me the most, though
Was the fact
That you believed you were acting in my best interests
Of course, it was my mistake
Not to leave this accursed country
While I had the chance
And seek my fortunes elsewhere
A mistake I may probably regret
For the rest of my life
Anyway, as Arabella Figg once said
"There's no good crying over spilt potion"
I was a fool to listen to you
But I have progressed in life
Far more than you would've expected me
And not because of you
But in spite of you
Well, I would love to meet you one of these days
And prove to you
That verbal communication is overrated
Just like you yourselves are
We autistic people can do equally well, if not better
As compared to you neurotypicals
Who are obsessed with correcting others
Well, please look into the mirror
And just leave us alone
Worse than an enemy, is an NT with a saviour complex
Well, we can see right through you
You may think you are being kind and empathetic
However, in reality, you are just a bunch of condescending wankers
Who believe they are always right
Well, there is nothing wrong in having your own views
Just try not to force them down our throats
I will end on this note
Autistic people are human beings too
It is time you learned to appreciate that
Jun 23, 2023
Jun 23, 2023 at 12:37 AM UTC
I am one of those guys
Who are reticent at first
But open up, as you get to know them
And once you've loosened my tongue
There's no stopping me
As I will go on and on
Till you die of boredom
Jokes apart, I am autistic
Which means that I may struggle
When it comes to social interaction
And can often be absent-minded
However, on the brighter side
My long-term memory is really good
And autism doesn't impact my work in the slightest
I am a good listener too
You can trust me with secrets
And I'll take them to the grave
Without a second thought
You may mock me as much as you like
But lay a finger on my close friends
And I will send you back to your maker!!
On that warning note
It's time for me to wrap up this little monologue
However, if you've attended job interviews
You would know that they usually begin like this
"Tell me about yourself"
Well, if you want a suitable answer
Then use this poem of mine as a reference
Just joking, don't even think of doing that!!
Mar 11, 2023
Mar 11, 2023 at 12:44 PM UTC
You all may think
That autism isn't a big deal
Am I right?
Well, when everything goes your way
You are "normal"
Just like everyone else
But the moment things start to go south
As my therapist would say
The brain chemicals would kick in
And you would be trapped in your own world
Fighting the madness
That threatens to surround you from all sides
In the form of a cacophony of loud noises
Different people shouting different instructions
One phone call after the other
Being assigned multiple tasks at once
The list is endless
Of course, the solution is simple
You just need to embrace your autism, don't you?
True, but it is easier said than done
Especially when you tend to forget things
At the worst possible time
Misread a number of social cues
Fail to detect sarcasm
Say the wrong thing at the wrong time
Crack under the slightest signs of pressure
And last but not the least
End up with labels such as ****** and "absent-minded"
Now, do you finally understand
Why autism is indeed a big deal for me?
Oct 2, 2022
Oct 2, 2022 at 8:44 AM UTC
I am different
And have always been
Right from the age of four
Whether it be my fascination for trains
And cement mixers, for some reason
Or my peculiar fear of water
Or my obsession with the number of pages in a newspaper
And last but not the least
Playing cricket with myself
I am different
And have always been
I can't make small talk to save my life
Social cues are like Greek and Latin to me
I understand sarcasm
As much as Voldemort understands love
I keep fiddling with my things
Pens, papers, clothes, hair etc.
My room is as organised
As a typical bachelor's den is
And the list goes on and on
I am different
And have always been
Earlier, this always used to bother me
And make me feel inferior
Especially when people advised me
To improve my verbal communication skills
And body language
However, I have realised now
That they could not have been more wrong
Because I am autistic
And autism is not something that can be cured
Rather, it has to be managed
And thanks to therapy
I have been managing reasonably well
For the last five years or so
Let me repeat
I am different
And have always been
If you have a problem with that
You are welcome to leave
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 12:45 PM UTC
You know the famous saying
All good things come to an end
This applies to weekends as well
Or in this case, Sundays
Because I was forced to work yesterday
Due to a massive project
Which will keep me occupied
For a good three weeks
Including two Saturdays
Hence, all the more reason
To positively dread the start of tomorrow
Ah yes, the infamous Monday
Something that terrifies me
More than climbing Mount Everest
Or entering a lion's den
Or earning the wrath of a cobra
I can go on and on
But I think I've made my point
Yes, Mondays are bad
Especially if you've enjoyed the weekend
As much as I did
Notwithstanding working on Saturday
So, do you want to know
What makes tomorrow twice as bad
As any other Monday?
Firstly, as mentioned earlier
I am working on a big project
Probably my biggest in the last three years
Secondly, while the going has been smooth so far
Things are going to get tricky
So far, all I have accomplished
Is pure research
But now, I'll have to start calling people
And these are not recruitment calls
Which are relatively straightforward
On the other hand
I am entering pure sales territory
Which may not be a big deal
For most "normal" people
But for someone who is autistic
It is a different ballgame altogether
In fact, it is like steering a ship
Through the Bermuda Triangle
And finally
The biggest roadblock
In my long and treacherous path
Is not the candidates
Not even the client
But my accursed laptop
Whose ability to perform under pressure
Is even less than that of South Africa
In a global cricket tournament
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 11:58 AM UTC
It is irritating beyond belief
That you have absolutely no control
Over what you can remember
And what you can forget
Especially if you are autistic
I want to remember so many things
Essential tasks, passwords, birthdays
I want to forget so many things
People, mistakes, failures
However, Fate works in mysterious ways
Most of the time, it so happens
That you forget what you want to remember
And remember what you want to forget
In the past, I have been guilty
Of losing a number of things
Calculators, earphones, pen drives
I have been equally guilty
Of forgetting as many things
Essential tasks, passwords, important dates
However, over the last few years
I have made some progress
I am much less forgetful
Than I used to be
Because I make notes in my diary
And set up reminders on my phone
However, as mentioned before
Fate works in mysterious ways
Especially if you are autistic
Just as I thought
That I had established some control
Over what I can remember
I have started forgetting again
And this time, there is no turning back
Jan 16, 2022
Jan 16, 2022 at 4:01 AM UTC
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.
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 6:07 PM UTC
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.
Feb 5, 2021
Feb 5, 2021 at 9:44 PM UTC
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
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 6:03 PM UTC
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
Nov 20, 2020
Nov 20, 2020 at 9:41 AM UTC
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
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
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
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 12:12 AM UTC
-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.
Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 6:56 AM UTC