"Poetry is what happens when nothing else can"

~ Charles Bukowski

"Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history"

~ Plato

"Poetry is thoughts that breathe and words that burn"

~ Thomas Gray


Processing feelings, frustrations, and my autistic experience. Be warned these range from the silly to serious, from the cringe-worthy to the curious...

Blocking the hustle, bustle and commotion

Shutting tight against the colours and motion

Playing the songs I've heard a thousand times

Calms my ears but not my eyes

Maybe I could wear sunglasses, but it's a grey day

Would people stare, say is she okay

Maybe I'm not, maybe I'm a mess

I hate the air, the smells, getting dressed

Why can't I stay under covers

Where I'm safe, dark, warm and smothered

Rather than be here, unpredictable chaos

This worlds not made for me, too fast, no moral ethos

The world inside my head is mine, just for me

But I can't stay here, without friends and family

So a balance is struck, I'm out and about

My headphones on, the outside shutout

Stuck in a room

No place to go

Everyone is hollow

The small talk, shallow

Check all the exits

Squint at the lights

Too nervous to eat

Too tense to fight

What is the point

I'm done, down and out

Of coming in

If the aim, lark about

Noticing the signs

The twitches, the glitches

Supressed urges, jerking held tight

Fighting silently, subconciously, with invisible might

Suddenly raw, at the surface, my skin is crawling

Electrical surges, uncontrollable urges

To move, break free, run from, from me

To exist someplace else, outside of myself

I throw, I flick, shake off the tension

I loosen, let go, breathe deep

And pace, and pace, and repeat

And slowly I slow, shuddering starts to cease

And I breathe, until tomorrow, repeat

Sunny streams

Break through refracted glass

Paint ribbons on my walls

It's spring at last

Trees are singing

Windows thrown open

Let in motes of pollen

Winter has finally broken

Wake up and breathe

The light in

Inhaler at the ready

Warmth, healing within

I want to tell you who I am

And show you who I want to be

I want to exist in the palm of your hand

Inside the bark of a tree

I'll be different but just the same

Apart from others but inside I'm clean

From influences, from typical society

Dressing for comfort, for sensory

Needs that I'd buried long ago, deep within

Hiding myself small, burying, shrinking

But now, I see me as I'm supposed to be

In the palm of my hand, in the bark of a tree

Watch out Pompeii

I've been holding it in

But any day

I could blow

Right out of my skin

Dogs or cats

What kind of question is that

Why do we divide

Sub group, partition, subtract

People down to a decision

A silly one too

Why not both I say

Or neither, who cares

I am more than an answer

A single word or phrase

I am complex and undecided

I won't play your silly game

How about love or laughter

Murder or marriage, lying or death

Not so fun now is it

The forcing of choice, it leaves you bereft

Asking what, but why, in what circumstance or context

Now do you see the problem, the infinite intricacy

Of life cannot be distilled

Down to a simple A or B

There is a place

You can't touch or taste

But here I can be

Myself with no face

Curated, perfected

Torn down and erected

Coloured, collected

Shared and connected

A retro vision brought forward

Of passion and dedication

A dash of acceptance

Patience, self expression

Sounds too good to be true?

Good news, want in?

The old web is for everyone, all beings

So welcome, let's begin!

I said stop

Leave me alone

Can't you hear me

Cry and groan

Hands over my eyes

Then over my eyes

Can't think can't hear

My existence despised

Never knowing

How long this lasts

So tired of this

A day ruined, outcast

I run away

But I can't escape

Jumbled mess inside

It's too late

Floating away

Above myself

Wondering why

She can't help herself

Snap back down

Into the confusion

Coherance is gone

Lost by diffusion

Hours later

Or is it days

Drained of tears

Stumbling haze

Why did that happen

Falling into that chasm

Sometimes I wish

I didn't have autism

(Credit to a quote from antikrist for the first line and inspiration)

Sometimes the truth is just a lie and forever runs out of time

What could be has already passed and the past is yet to chime

What once was known is lost to the wind and buried memories uncovered

The river becomes overgrown and the road ahead uncluttered