A beautiful, magical autistic woman in a gothic style dress conjures leaves to circle around her. Her eyes are closed

Poetry: I Don’t Want Your Normal

I’m in a stupor of the mind
Watching what you do to look fine
Tearing up from my empty eyes
While I drink in the smoke
You’ve blown at me like a gift of surprise

On the island where your dreams come true,
Lying is painted in green hues
Flaring your chest to look big
Is the soil in which your flag is fixed

Inauthenticity is the sun
That nurtures trees of hypocrisy here
And guides you as you build
Roads of oppression
Preying on others’ weaknesses
For your succession

You sprint on these roads
Intoxicated by power
To be the first to maneuver
From the top of the mountain
Of social hierarchy forever,
Plucking the thorns in your journey, bravely
And flinging them carelessly
Into the clear blue sea
Of people you see

So on this island of yours,
I am the alien,
For I call your green, the black fallen,
And your soil, polluted.

My sun doesn’t look the same
And my trees feed me fruits
That have not achieved your fame
I do not run your race
And know not how to avoid
Your thorny, smoky grace

You push me, you hurt me,
And block my right to be
The only way to live, I see
Is to say to you,
“I’m impaired, i agree”

But know this, oh! great human
If being normal
requires me to be toxic,
I reject that label
I would rather wear one
That describes me as unable

I might have a mental illness
And a shorter life in your society,
But I prefer to live in humble piety
And serve this world
By indulging in my passions

I am just as able as you are
And my impairment is my star, my caviar,
No, I am not better than you,
And no, I am not lesser than you,
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder,
And I am just as pretty as you are

Oh! Don’t you see who we can be?
Beauty and the beast in a new story
If you just let me be
We could live in harmony

For this island is the only
Space that God bequeathed
For me to breathe freely.

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1 Comment

  1. Beautiful!

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