autism is

a hurricane:

i wrecked this room

the second i entered it.

it is

the sun

burning holes into retinas,

it is

running in circles around me;

i forgot

how to breathe in this

smog.

 

autism taught me

that the meaning of words distorts

when your face melts into a snarl;

it taught me

that you were better than

because you didn’t need a manual;

but you,

you showed me how to fight

for my humanity:

i fought with teeth bared,

silent

and they told me i was too passive

for love.

 

once,

i knew a love that was gentle

and sweet

like fruit in Tennessee

but it was sticky like

old jam, and

in the heat I swam too far

into you;

 

my fever

broke.

 

autism taught me

to see through the fog:

you were coming and i,

i,

i,

i dove

into the sea.