Autistic Me

Autistic Me

I do not see what you think I should see,

I do not know what you think I should know,

Ideas are sound, thoughts are waves,

The universe is a playground in which I want to play.


You say I should know better,

You say I should know better,

But how can I know better ,

When you don’t know whether,


Whether I am in pieces,

Or if I am whole,

But I am in peaces,

Which to you I can’t show.


Tell me what I am or am not,

That seems to be the gate you have locked,

Tell you what you are and are not,

Inside the gates you have tight locked.


Autistic you say,

A disorder profound,

Imprisoned within,

An internal playground.


Tell me, yell me,

Speak you, shout you,

It’s just noise without meaning,

A telephone ringing.


On the wall it sits,

I had not the hands,

To pick it up,

To hear the demands.


But freedom I found,

Out from the cage,

Found within,

The lines of a page.


Logic and reason,

Empirically drawn,

Chaos to structure,

Built on questions.


Now from the cage,

I stepped and walked away,

You tell me I overstep,

So softly I tread.


And under your nose,

I sneak by,

To rescue the others,

Bound in the playground.


You fear the structure,

You fear the knowledge,

Explanatory fictions are,

The security blankets to your fear.


But we crave the playground beyond the walls.

So out the gate we go.

Where we will end up no one knows.

But anywhere is better than in darkness and fear.


Autistic you say?

An insult?


A banner that flies.