Silent
My hands claw through layers of personas,
Whisper-thin my unclothed voice shies away
**********
Disowned
Whatever the world touches ceases to
Belong and can no longer be assimilated into
My concept of self
**********
Echopractic
Many nights I walk away from you Echopractic in
The assumption of a foreign rhythm, unable to
Dislodge your ego from my limbs
**********
Mimic
As a child I was an incredible mimic,
I borrowed my voice from a Hollywood
Actress as my own lacked inflection
That voice is my greatest defense
And my greatest liability
**********
Blind
When I was an infant I was mistaken
For blind because my eyes kept
Side-stepping reality
**********
Vertigo
When I am forced to look into other people’s
Eyes they appear upside down and too high up
Simultaneously its the same kind of vertigo
One gets when looking into fun house mirrors
**********
Expression
I have learned the basic expressions just not
The timing for their application. Enthusiasm
Is the worst, my ribs are scarlet from the applause
Of a vigorous pulse but you would never know
Because on the outside I’m completely drained
Of color and cadaverously silent
**********
Awkward
My mouth, as a butterfly, gets
Pinned up behind my ears
Whenever artifice is disarmed
Like the involuntary twitch of
Dead flesh coerced through
Electricity
**********
Withdrawn
Months go by with my eyes
Tucked safely in the pockets
Of down-cast lids, withdrawn
Semi-comatose I adhere to the
Prosaic, to the conscientious
Repetition of self-soothing
Patterns
**********
Telephone
Every time the phone rings death slips
From my footsteps into my shoes and
I turn white as a 100 watt bulb, its
As if my soul were shaken free
And then hooked to the outside
**********
Intense
Life for me is that moment
When a human transforms
Into a vampire and every
Sense is simultaneously
Switched on and at critical
Capacity, agony and pleasure
Rush in at the same moment
Its impossible to tell if I am
Dying or having an orgasm
Its not a matter of feeling
Too little but too much
=
(Right now I am re-reading “Somebody Somewhere” by Donna Williams its the 2nd book in here autobiography, the first “Nobody Nowhere” I unfortunately don’t own =( Donna is Autistic and I remember reading her biography in high school helped me to understand myself better. These little snippets are all related to myself. I chose this photo because its so jarring and difficult to look at even though its not ugly. I am a lot more self-conscious about sharing this one.)
mindlovemisery 