Autistic Autonomy

There are thoughts piling in my mind,

even when my words don't escape in hasty breaths.

I've lived so many lives in just one body

only to be looked over as if my life was ended by a dozen deaths.

I'm buried in shame as I watch their conversations dance over me,

they talk in circles around me as if I'm merely an object.

I'm never seen as valued as the people who surround me,

and people often look at them with pity like I'm some tedious science subject.

I'm screaming into the void but my mouth is covered in cling wrap,

I'm swallowing sentences knowing my words won't impact anyone.

They're too concerned with what the "normal" folks around me might say,

so I wonder why I even try to give myself an identity when I'm made to feel like no one.

So I find other ways to explain myself and express my needs.

I sign until my joints ache and write until my skin bleeds.

I type my words on social media, and paint them with acrylics.

I spell them out in many languages, whatever the world needs.

Whatever people need to see I am my own person, no matter how silent I may seem.

I am my own individual, one who thinks thoughts and is able to dream.