112922-1523

Does my anger upset you?
Are you surprised by my outrage?

That's too bad.

I am done making you comfortable,
at the expensive of myself.

My anger is justified
and if it upsets you,
it's probably because you are among them,
with the hateful hands that are holding me down.

Those here, beneath and beside me,
being crushed by your dictations,
and those trying to lift me up,
we understand the anger.
Outrage in the face of injustice makes sense.
So, why are you not angry?

Yes, I am angry.
Because you tell me I cannot be myself.
You've decided that I am not good enough.
You've marked me defective and broken.

I am angry.
The very buildings we work in are not built with me in mind.
Yet, I am forced to work there.
Doesn't matter that it all hurts me,
while you force me into your precious mold.

I am angry.
I will continue to rage against the many injustices.
You deciding who I can marry and how many.
You have declared I don't get body autonomy.
Christian values shaping the cage you force me in.

You tell me to simmer down
and to calm myself.
Well, I can do that,
Once you give me equity.
I will be quiet,
once you acknowledge my basic humanity.
I will be still,
when all people know freedom,
rather then just the precious few
who take it for granted.

101922-0302

This diagnosis
describing a part of me
a bit of my fundamental self
not a thing separate from who I am

I am a Zebra and I am a Wife.
I am autistic and I am a sister.
All these: pieces of me.

Do not caution me against this.
Don’t tell me I cannot hug myself.

I carry these flags,
and I summon up my tribe.
These are my people:
here is the Dazzle and the Spoonies.

We are not broken.
We are not less than.
We may be different,
but where’s the crime?

Let’s celebrate all the colors
and light up this dreary world.
Let’s celebrate all humanity
and share in all the wonder.

I am different.
And so are you.

Do not reduce me
so you can better understand
Do not stuff me down
so you can better tolerate

Accept all that I am

All the strengths
and all the weaknesses.

Recognize all I offer.

Not only my failings
but all my achievements.

Give me permission
and let me be human.

100522-1545

Like badges of honor
my stretch marks and scars
outline my history.

They are not beautiful,
yet, I still am.

They tell the ugly truths
about all the hurts and hells
that I have lived through.

I do not love them,
yet, I love myself.

These lines that mark me
define so much of what I’ve been
and limit what I can become.

I embrace them,
as part of myself.


082221-0305

Don’t tell me everything is alright
when I know that you are breaking
crumbling inside into a thousand fragile pieces
Doff your mask and put aside your hat
I give you permission to get messy
So sit down and let it all out
what ever is living, bound up in your rib cage
strip down naked and lay yourself bare
pull out your guts and cry your eyes out
no more dirty secrets or skeletons in a closet
tonight, let’s be raw and real
no holding back and no reserve
our date will be dancing in the darkness
crying in the rain and shouting at the stars

082121-0541

Whisper to the butterfly
and let it carry on it’s wings
all the things you wish you said
to those now long dead

Only dreams and memories
spun together with longing and regret
are holding these spirits here
for all the things they haven’t heard yet

All the time that stands between us
while I clutch at your dust
and dance with the time past
wishing I could forget

082121-0521

I feel nothing but the empty;
surging, huge inside me,
filling all my spaces
and silencing all my songs.
This world always told me
I can never belong.
Always reaching to reshape me,
pressing me against the mold,
forcing out all the colors.
I look at the mirrored grey
and I imagine the rainbow
and all the ways I was painted
before you had your way.
Looking out this little window
upon the expansive grey,
I wonder: who stole your light
and made you believe in shadows?
All the thieving generations,
blindly, grabbing at what is gone,
hurting all their babies,
snuffing out the little lights,
too painful to look upon.
This angry, raging circle,
cutting as it spins.
But why not
turn the lights back on?

082121-0513

eggshell fragile
with new skin
freshly shedding the old
sitting here in the sun
not brave enough yet to venture
recalling all the things
that I thought made me
and suddenly realizing
I’m none
I’m only this
bare
naked
new
nearing the last days
but always just born
still discovering
everything around me
is awe and luxury
always
still so new
standing on this earth
I can never be old
forever just a child
confused
seeking
lonely
hoping for the answers
and realizing I have none