And the overload was confirmed
Everything made sense
The world bloomed
Like flowers blossoming from a popped balloon
It was a reason why I made my arms an art
Why, when I was little, I danced in circles like a clown
Laughing to myself (for I didn’t have friends)
Swinging on the swings for hours and hours
Moving but getting nowhere
Like the walking in circles
In the pouring rain when I was grown
Sitting in museums, staring at the same exhibit
Freezing time for it and me
Putting myself behind glass
Not to be touched
Not be noticed
There were the years of mania and delusions
When I numbed myself to not feel emotional
To quell the fever inside
This new word for what is ‘wrong’
Keeps reminding me that is ok
Not to be normal
That I do not have to be a human with finesse
That I can eat my breakfast at two am
And lunch at nine thirty
Now I am left alone by medics and hospitals
And I am thriving because of it
This is my new project
Learning what it means to be autistic
More importantly learning what it means to be me
My individual, unique, shining self.
It is more than okay to be your unique, shining self, Jae, and we are delighted to know you and read your magical poems. I love the image of flowers blossoming from a popped balloon.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like it was after the diagnosis that you began to shine, and in each poem you write you glow! I had an autistic boy in class, and he was brilliant. He had idiosyncracies, but don't we all! Keep writing and thriving.
ReplyDeleteI see what you did there with the title! Indeed, if we are not our own project, any other project is going to fail.
ReplyDeleteA sweet discovery and.a daily one, self-discovery: how else can the world bloom for you, your "arms an art" in dance, your eyes seeing what others ignore or cannot? Lonely but whole is what everyone is finally with self-acceptance.
ReplyDeleteLove it from title to end of poem. If we aren't our own project, then we are forcing ourselves to be someone else's. Yeah for being you!
ReplyDeleteOne of your best.
ReplyDelete