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Of down-cast lids, withdrawn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.)

28 responses to “Alien

  1. This is simply amazing….it has that eerie dissociative feel to it that makes you feel you are glimpsing into a new world..just wonderful and a bit dread and fearful at the same time! 🙂

    • Thank you Bruce! It was Sally Field’s voice I first used but in 6th grade we were watching a movie that she was in and the kids were like Candice you sound exactly like her and I became the center of attention, they wanted me to say her lines blah blah, so I had to switch it up after that so a more covert voice. I actually only hear my natural voice when I sing and is so robotic I can’t stand it. Are you are good mimic Bruce?

      • I have this habit of trying to match Steve Earle or johnny cash’s voice when I but some tracks on, so generally yes I don’t take singing seriously so I mess around trying to match there voices.

  2. dang…these are so evocative….the disowned one is striking…the butterfly mouth pinned behind the ears…snap….the last one, breath taking…seriously, wish i could write more but my silence is as honest as your verse….

    noticed the autism/aspie tag…are you?

    • Wow Brian thank you, your beautiful compliments have left me speechless!

      I was originally diagnosed with SEVERE ADD at Duke University (I was participating in a study) and they did recommend me to a specialist for PDD but I could not afford an appointment. Later a teacher set me up to met a colleague specialist and she said that I had a diagnosable amount of symptoms but because I did not have the distinctive voice, which she felt was 100% necessary for diagnosis she thought it impossible. When I sing I do have the flat monotone but for speaking I have since childhood used borrowed voices. She suggested I might have some type Sensory Disintegration Disorder but it was only one meeting so she couldn’t diagnose me. In school my mom did a checklist for me as well and she scored me the highest in the Autistic/Asperger category and once after my aunt took a Psychology class she dumped tons of Asperger info on my mom. I don’t really know to tell you the truth maybe, what is undeniable is that I have always had social problems. As a kid I had few friends (one at a time) but when I did play I would make up a game/story beforehand write it down and force the poor person to listen to an explanation that was an 1 hour long before we could play, which I think qualities as odd at least

      • what a familiar story….i worked with a kid that was severe ADD and ODD….until he finally was diagnosed aspie…love that kid, it was a lot of work though getting the school to recognize the diagnosis change…and to get the mom to understand how to handle him…

  3. The opening, Silent, is a really nice couplet. Subtle and precise. Some other quality stuff too, but that’s my favourite.

  4. Wow! This is a fantastic rendering of the fractals of the psyche! What a picture they present when combined. I make no claim to fully understand them all, but the images are cleverly worded and clear. Having once been married to a bi-polar, manic-depressive, I often thought she viewed herself in a similar way; that is as an assemblage of fractured pieces refusing synthesis into a whole. I am stating only that this is an outstanding portrayal, not any manner of reflection on the author. I like this piece alot!

  5. very intense…naturally I found Vertigo the most interesting…no one stood still long enough for me to see anything but a blur…almost all gone but I feel like I’m on a cheap drunk.
    this one kept me on the edge of reality the whole way or maybe the edge of abyss hoping I wouldn’t fall in.

  6. So much I recognise here Candice as myself as a child – introverted shy and with few friends. I became a mimic too – became whoever someone needed me to be – still am (and do) to a lesser degree.

    In my early twenties the need arose to stand up and be counted, step forward from my safe but lonely corner – I needed to protect my first son from psychiatric labelling when he was only three.

    And so I became the me I am today…

    Anna :o]

    • I am so glad to hear you are in a better place now Anna =) I hope I can get out of my chronic state of disconnected anti-reality, doesn’t help that I have seizures, I feel like I am just always in a stupor

  7. Sorry if my comment turns up twice! Can’t remember the first (if it exists) version exactly, but I think I said your poetry is evocative and soul-touching.

  8. This is terrifyingly real. I can’t imagine what you must go through. Your descriptions are horrifyingly beautiful, if that makes any sense!

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