Who Am I?

Who am I? I try to figure out myself.

Different, outcast, abnormal.

Something was different about me, but what?

Autism, aspergers.

The treasure chest of my possession awareness

Wasn't unlocked by my mother

Until I was 11.

I know some people might have minds like me,

But I feel like Eeyore with Tigger's known thoughts:

"I'm the only one."

At times, I'm a zebra in a group of Dalmations.

I find several paths of understanding

When several songs enter my ears.

Autism awareness is the key that unlocks the door

To a world I never imagined.

As my eyes opened to a new world,

I realize there are certain people

Who either want to exile autism from their minds,

Or people who drag autistics and aspies

To the center of insulting jokes.

I question the media's motivation

To give birth to stereotypes,

With unawareness of giving birth to depression.

I hear insults and I think to myself,

"What the Hans Asperger is the problem?"

I'm part of a group that embraces autism.

Although the rope connecting autism and aspergers

Will be cut into two,

My heart's still the form of a puzzle piece.

I may talk to myself, stay alone, or play with water.

So what?

I just embrace what makes me me.

Open the window blinds wider

And the true world is realized.

Who am I? I am me.