AND I THOUGHT I WAS DEPRESSED! A FIGHTING POET—THAT’S WHAT I LIKE!!!
I’m losing me.
My heart doesn’t beat so fast anymore.
It beats slower and slower, till one night
I felt like dying. I am dying. I thought, I hoped.
Everything’s a blur, now. Everything’s spotty.
Memory. Finances. Relationships. Mood.
Blinding headaches blur the little vision I have.
The tearing up inside that I can’t let outside.
I forgot. I’ve got Aspergers. I’m trying to hide.
Cause who’s gonna believe my story? See me?
For someone not awkward. Not special.
Just especially ticked off when plans fail.
Because I hate planning for the unseen.
There’s so much my anxiety won’t let me.
And the world wants me to remain in the dark.
So sick of being left out, of being forgotten.
Sick of everyone pretending they know me.
There’s anger, and then there’s what I feel.
Gnawing pressure that demands release.
Burning sensations traveling up tired muscles.
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