How about
Instead of throwing up our hands
Saying “Nothing matters”
We instead say
“Everything matters”
I ask myself again:
Why shouldn’t the way I live matter to me?
…
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
How about
Instead of throwing up our hands
Saying “Nothing matters”
We instead say
“Everything matters”
I ask myself again:
Why shouldn’t the way I live matter to me?
…
Sobbing under stone
Screaming nothings with words doomed
To be forgotten
Grayscale adventures
In another time and place
Lessons to be learned
Well then you could swallow [the moon], and it would all dissolve, see?
It’s a Wonderful Life
And the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair.
Journeys true and false
Adventurous together
Sleep comes calmly now
Surroundings tilted
Questioning reality
Deserving nothing
Press thoughts into me like fingertips
But explain to me what they mean
Shove feelings down my throat like cupcakes
But tell me what the flavours are
Invite me to the dinner table like I’m one of you
But show me how you live every single day
With the same humanoid shape
With the same language
With the same homeland as I
With your body comprised of the same proteins as I
With the same glucose in your veins as I
I’ll pay voracious attention this time, I swear
I’ll try really hard to learn
So that one day I may be able
To finally assume the shape of your thoughts
And learn to play your part
December 6, 2024
… But then
I think of them seeing me from the inside out
I imagine their mind’s fingers combing the strands tangled in my shallows
…
With thoughts and love I
Revisit with empathy
Dear friend’s expressions
If I really could
I would raise high scaffolding
To lift heavy hearts
She’s dizzy, weak
She’s heavily wounded
Yet miraculously she stands
On shaking legs
Spitting bitter iron
Coughing, dazed, stumbling
With broken bones
Into arms of those who came
To her when she needed them most
The wet sand that cushioned her
When she fell so far
The sun that hid from her
In the cobblestone square
The moon that couldn’t find her
Sitting at her warm table
The snow that didn’t touch her
But saw her through that window
And the friend who could read her
Who could hear and see right through her
May be the only ones who really
Know her stories
Maybe that’s enough
After all, as this new day ends
She’s still standing
December 5, 2024
12:15 a.m.
A Daydream Aggressive
A Daydream Decisive
A Daydream Gently Ending
Sometimes it all leaves
Blank sheets reach the horizon
Lungs now mere machines
Organs move onward
Redundant automatons
I have nothing real
Colours dull and fade
In this void words will not come
So I become still
(An attempt to figuratively capture experiences of autistic shutdowns and/or intermittently becoming non-verbal.)