My hands claw through layers of personas,

Whisper-thin my unclothed voice shies away



Whatever the world touches ceases to

Belong and can no longer be assimilated into

My concept of self



Many nights I walk away from you Echopractic in

The assumption of a foreign rhythm, unable to

Dislodge your ego from my limbs



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



When I was an infant I was mistaken

For blind because my eyes kept

Side-stepping reality



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



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



My mouth, as a butterfly,  gets

Pinned up behind my ears

Whenever artifice is disarmed

Like the involuntary twitch of

Dead flesh coerced through




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Of down-cast lids, withdrawn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




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



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.)


Prompt 3 Stigma


Today’s prompt is Stigma but rather than write generically about the concept I want you to choose a condition to which social stigmas are often attached (ex. mental illness, physical disability, sexual orientation, religion, criminality, addiction, etc). If possible write from personal experience or about a subject close to your heart. Anyone is more than welcome to participate, so please feel free to jump in at anytime. There is a week dedicated to each prompt (a new one goes up each Sunday), if you want to respond to an older prompt please leave your link at the most recent  (specify which prompt)  because once I put up the new Mr. Linky I can’t access the old Mr. Linky’s anymore.