I just write something I actually quite liked, but I can't finish the last line and now I hate it. Also, I don't feel that it is relatable to other people. Most of us don't hear voices in our head or refer to ourselves in the plural. I often do and subsequently when I write like that I feel like no one will want to read it. So, yes. There is my uninspired, self hating author statement if the day.

Fractured: that's how I've always felt.

A bit broken,

a bit helpless

and still

I get back up.

I try to find a place that's safe.

I try to carry on.

Yet every little thing

is like a ticking bomb.

One mind, seven faces.

I change at home and school.

My friends are saying I'm not sane.

Sometimes, I say it too.

Then there are times I laugh out loud

and pain is just a dream

but those same dreams come back at night, they become reality.

It used to be my waking day.

I had so much fear.

Now all I have are memories

and things only I can hear.

Sometimes I spin and hang

in sun and fields of green

then there are times when darkness

becomes the only thing I see.

the light is only blinding

and the quiet holds my tears

then there are times music is

the only thing I hear

The war has long been over

but there are pictures on my walls.

I gave up everything I had

and now I'm all but gone.

The war has long been over

but I remember every part.

The silent screams.

The tiny things

like starving in the dark.

What once was beautiful

I only see in blood.

The fields I play in all day

where once my brothers stood.

The war has long been over

but things still feel the same.

I stare into the mirror

but I don't know my name.

Numbers rolling overhead

while thundering cannons roar.

A sequence rumbles through my mind

I can't take this any more.

The war has long been over

but things still feel the same.

The enemy is vanquished.

Now I hold all the blame.

I hear the battle brewing,

the breaking of the tide.

The only thing left to break

is what I hold inside.

The war has long been over,

but things still feel the same.

The war has long been over

but I still hold the blame.

The war has long been over

but cannons shake the ground.

The war has long been over

but my sword was not put down.

The war has long been over,

but things still feel the same.

At night the battle rages,

with memories of the slain.

The war has long been over,

but I have not let go.

I sit cocooned, inside my bed,

and shiver from the cold.

The walls should block the wind,

Time should block the screams.

The bath should wash away the blood,

but still... I bleed.

The war has long been over,

but I still feel the same.

The war has long been over,

but I still hold the blame.

Yes, our foes were vanquished

but a couple things remain:

are the silent screams,

the tiny things,

and memories of the slain.

Good bye old war, hello new one.

Disassociate

get lost in an abstract maze

never to return

disconnect from pain

Fly from your reality

just to numb the ache

Disconnect from pain

To be numbed by the rain

Reach but slowly fade

become a blank page

losing the words is a trade

lose both love... and pain

I find myself

signing,

coping,

with all the things I can't express.

I find myself

Trying,

Failing,

Is it over yet?

I find myself

drawing,

writing,

just to feel some change.

I find blood on my hands

just to feel the pain.

To take the edge off

all the madness.

To try to

suffocate

this heart that I have.

The confusion

dulls my senses.

All the voices

surround me

I'm going to hide

in the maze of my mind.

It takes the edge off all the madness.

Each day becomes a hurtle of greek fire and hell.

It takes the edge off all the madness,

when I think its all

a silly game

and forget what I found.

Take the edge off

all the madness

memories

disappear

the silence remains

Take the edge of all the madness

I find myself

listening

to this unrelenting pain

saying to end it all

in one fell swoop.

A dive

off

a mountain,

a pill in my booze.

Take the edge off all the madness

till I can see

till I'm home again

whisperin'

suffrin' in silence

Take the edge off all the madness.

Dopamine

taping me

up like I'm broke.

Take the edge off

all the madness.

Whatever is

giving me

a second of sane

Take the edge off

all around me

reality

starts to fade

what did I say?

Take the edge off

all the madness.

Dopamine

sing to me

the song of a

pause in time

it takes the edge off all the madness.

Dopamine,

sing to me,

till I can't compound

the pain, again.

soaking

like a

title wave,

drowning in

all that I am

Take the edge off

all around me

let reality

fade away

replaced with a maze

of shame.

Can't breathe

Can't wait

Can't talk

it's a big mistake

Wake me up

Set me free

Break me up

Shatter my cage

Tell me this ends today

Tell me I'm no longer stuck in my head

Tell me I didn't wish I was dead

Tell me a truth

Tell me a lie

Just tell me I'll stop dying inside

Give me an instant

Give me a way

To make a difference

To make a change

Not for the world

No, just for me

Let me create my own reality

Bring me the hope

Bring me the flame

Let me feel alive again

Set me free

Break my chains

Let me feel alive today

Let me feel

alive

today.

It's so very strange

Speaking when no one hears

Signing when no one listens

reaching out my hands only for them to be worse than ignored; laughed at, berated, unconventional freak.

I'm not a freak.

At least, I don't think I am.

But there are certain groups of people,

certain sets of reactions

certain words that send shame through my chest

I hide in books because I have no where else to go.

I spent time dreaming about what it was like to have different siblings, different families, different hobbies, different chances, languages, foods, everything.

My life was spent pretending to be some one else, not just the little girl, but the woman on the train, the man in the back of the car, the cat who got to sit around and eat all day.

I never thought that was strange.

And maybe it isn't,

maybe, that's what everyone does

they dream of being someone else

having a different body

a different life

and by the time they look into their own

a bridge has been built between the mind and reality

a puppet plays out every role

yet you no longer have control

all you can do is sit and watch

as your world is torn apart piece by piece

doing nothing, you stand in a corner hoping no one notices you're there

you pull out a book

and become another character

one that feels right.

You take on the skin of a human

and live in a world you've never been to before.

You know everything before it ever happens

yet still, it is better than waking up

it is better than being in reality

because there

you're already gone

you've already lost control

and worse than that

you've lost your soul

forever doomed to live as a puppet

in everyone else's world.

Today my sister called me a girl

There was a shock

as if the whole world had faded in an instant

then I had to drive

and pretend like nothing had happened

because, in everyone else's eyes, nothing did.

My dog is named Sable. She knocks on my door every time she wants to come into my room for the night. She leaves me alone when I'm over stimulated and comforts me when I'm sad. She has been by my side longer than any human and knows me better than my closest friends. She is my companion and my commandant. She is loyal even when I don't deserve it. And, no matter how many times I yell and shout when I get home, just trying to relieve my chest of its burden, I am there for her too, always.

Two years

It's been two years

and you still don't use my name

Two years

It's been two years

and you still call me a girl to my face

Two years

It's been two years

and you still think its a fucking choice

Two years

It's been two years

and I still don't have a voice

I find it funny that there is a trope representing autistic folk as loners because I am anything but that. I am however, pretty nerdy. I have good scores on tests, but I don't really care about school. I would much rather go learn on my own and I'm getting really tired of math. My special interest is folklore. I could drown you in the cultural significance of a wall, any wall. I could rant to you for ages about the irreversible catastrophe that is colonization (I'm white as fuck by the way). The Aztecs are fascinating and I so want to understand their knot work. A fully knotted laguage as well as numbers, written language, sign language, dialects and so much more. I could asphyxiate from excitement right here and now if literally anyone could teach me anything there is to know.

Sadly, that is not possible and school is a living nightmare; the noise, the confusion of people actually wanting to talk to me and be my friend, the figuring out of teachers and vending machines, the constant misgendering. I have had enough. But everyday, I wake up looking forward to school because I get to see the tisms (autism friends). They have special interests and such a love for life, I can't explain it.

Each of us struggle so much. Yet despite it all, manage to get through a day, play some pokemon, learn a song, do some art, watch my little pony and be queer. It's an accomplishment. One for which we support each other. We each know how hard it is for the other. We know why they suddenly switch to ASL instead of English or why my best friend always brings a teddy bear to school. It is because getting through each day with a genuine smile on your face is an accomplishment, one of the best accomplishments. So, you can call me a weirdo. I know why. I know it's strange to bring a model dragon to school and sneak an extra writing notebook into class instead of drugs but its something that brings me joy and that is way too fucking hard to find.