Losing Yourself

As the door hinged shut

And the brakes hissed in release

I turned to a road that seemed to stretch on infinitely 

Tears welled up as I trudged down the way

Each door appeared at first the same 

I stopped to look at each house

Passing the ranches

But observing each double-decker with doubt

This one has a window box

These two have a fence around them

My house is across from the cul-de-sac

Wailing and walking and looking for clues

Finally, I came upon it

The car my parents drove around

This must be the house I live in

Angry noise

It isn't my fault 

I couldn't find my way

K. B. Silver

~*~

April is not only National Poetry Month but also

Autism Acceptance Month.

This poem is about getting lost. I was and am still always getting lost, it is a common trait of autistic people, and a real danger for us. I rely heavily on my GPS, and all my information is programmed on my phone. I can have difficulties remembering my address when in a stressful environment, and if I need to take a taxi, I might need to read it off.

The memory I wrote from was getting off the bus in second grade. My mother knew I was autistic, but was embarrassed by that diagnosis, and so I have spent my entire life lost and confused. I was thirty-three when my diagnosis "came out," it's been a rough three and a half years finding myself.