Dear Casket, With Scenes Of Romance


(Author’s Note: HEY EVERYBODY. I’ve been really sick, and while I’m still not better, I felt good enough to publish this. Hope you enjoy)


Dear Casket

with scenes of romance

Why did you try to mask it

You knew we had no chance

July Thirty First

to December Twenty Seventh

She might have been my first

she might have been my seventh

Yet it all feels the same

when it all boils down

you’re left maimed

from boils

and gurgling sounds from under the water

pleading at the top of your lungs

to stop her

And she didn’t

and you didn’t

She couldn’t swim

but she couldn’t drown

No, that echo resounded long into her night

twisting and turning her

Oh, how the faithful have might

I watched her struggle

in my view

but in its view

she was free

no, not she, but he

untied from his temporary calling

he would wait in secret until another

desired dwelling

Last wishes on evening star

Many faces coming from afar

to gaze at the beauty you are

Before time gave the finishing mar

and left our hearts with a crooked scar



I Was Mortified, Now I’m Fortified


Earlier this month, I came out with a terrible confession

I was addicted to porn. (

There wasn’t a day I couldn’t not watch it, and much of my thoughts were dedicated to finding ways to watch it. But suddenly, I had a breakthrough.

I thought about everyone I was hurting. People I didn’t know. You. People I did. Me. It broke me, it crushed me, and it made me want to change. I learned what it does to relationships, to the brain, and how it’s destroying the lives of so many in this world. If we are all connected, then I’ve had a hand in the suffering of millions.

That’s a devastating feeling, but with prayer, dedication, and the encouragement from you, I’ve started to turn.

I’ve gone twenty-two straight days without surfing porn, and I’ve barely thought about it. I don’t feel the need to look it up, and that’s the biggest victory. The urge is gone, and I’m spending more time reading and writing. All the things porn was taking from me, I’m getting back. I’m feeling stronger, mentally and physically. I’m looking at women, sex, and relationships differently. I feel stronger in what I believe, and I’m more confident than ever. This time last year, I would’ve never thought I’d go a day without porn, but nearly a month? God is good, and he works in incredible ways.

Thank you, KELLY ELIZABETH for sharing this hope with me!

(This is a poem I wrote before joining the Fortify program)


and quiet


not trying to fight it





Trying to explain

how I feel

How I’m not in control

my wacked-out brain is at the wheel

I try to be normal

but I always fail

I try to make friends

but the lies name the trail

I try to speak out

but I am silenced

by the power

and I just can’t fight it

Maybe I’m not strong enough

because I’m too weak minded

or maybe I’m just unlucky

and I need to find it




Rose, And A Feeling I Never Want To Know


You are my desire

and you make me reach higher

Your heart is like birds in flight,

never resting

Love like water

endlessly flowing

Holding out

the wilted seed

of our love

in my hand

Can it be planted again?

I’m walking through the garden,

where childish feet used to tread

watching birds, bees, and anything,

that happily fled

I’m walking through the garden,

Where young feet used to tread

watching planets, cosmic lines, and anything

that happily shined

Rose, we could have grown together

until we wilted and turned grey

but the amaryllis folded back that day

and the lily pads saw underneath the waters

Putting down

the wilted seed

of our love

in the ground

It has been planted again,

will I let you grow?

will I let you go?





YOU Are Why This Aspergian Writes


Nearly 2,000 followers and over 100 posts later, I would have never thought I’d have this much of a following. I have so many favorites, and you all leave some really amazing comments. You’re encouraging, supportive, and also honest. We share ideas, and we help one another. I’m grateful to be part of this community.

Many times I’ve been asked why I write, and I think it’s very simple. Some will say because they’re bored, and others because it’s fun. My response is neither. I write to change perspectives. I write to change negative stereotypes around those on the autism spectrum. I write to give hope to those, who like me, were considering taking their lives because of depression, anxiety, and abuse. Many of you have shared their stories, and I’ve really taken them to heart, and they’ve inspired my words. Here’s just another piece of this brittle heart, hope you find it sweet….


They tried to break me

saying writing would never make me

aspergers would always betray me

Well I’m published now

and people read my words daily

about that Aspergers that made me

and now they can’t stand next to me

Because they can’t take the heat

when I spit these

words that burn to the core

raw pain that lives forever more

images of people that I used to adore

My dad leaving my mom, and me at the door

my past falls on me everyday like a bitter rain

and everyday I’m living a lie

when I tell myself I’m sane

I’m not sane, I’m insane!

Tortured by the man

I thought I called my father

but he doesn’t give a fuck about me

so why did even bother

wondering where he went and he’d come

in a pinch

Childhood kicked me

as my family ran past

my slow-stepping

mess-making ass

I thought I was destine to die

as life was passing me by

and as I sat with that bleach

in my glass, I said

“one more time”

but I saw a better person

standing in the mirror

and with the Word

I became a believer

No matter what they said

I’d be myself

No matter that they did

I’d put it on the shelf

cause I’m not living for them

I’m not living for their approval

I’m not living for the person I once knew

I’m dying for everyone on the spectrum

so they can live too

Publishing A Book? Inside An Aspergian’s Brittle Heart


It’s nearly Christmas time, which means I’m trying to stay indoors as much as possible. The holidays exacerbate every last aspergian response possible. First off, the constant music an lights give me headaches. Never mind I hate Christmas music in general(or that’s where the hate comes from), but the flashing lights are a sensory OVERLOAD.

Then, it’s all the people. Stupid Santa’s (creepy as hell), people wishing you merry Christmas, and the manic shopping/spending…I can’t take it. I can’t shop in peace, because somebody has to sharing “Christmas wishes” or asking me what’s my favorite Christmas tradition. I can’t go anywhere without having carols, Jesus, and Jingle Bells shoved down my throat. I’d rather stay inside, listen to the music I want to listen to, and not have to answer the question “Why don’t you celebrate Christmas?”

Mariah Carey is hot, got it, but “All I Want For Christmas Is You” becomes very damp when you realize you can never, ever have her. Sigh. And, Jingle Bell Rock is WAY overrated. And while gingerbread and egg nog everything is delicious, when the cashiers at Starbucks automatically expect that’s what you want, yeah…

On a more personal topic, I’m starting to compile my poetry for an anthology. I’ve looked over all my files, and I feel like I have enough (quality) work to turn it into a book. It’ll be a long process, but I feel very excited about starting it. I’m a bit disorganized with my poetry, though. Since I write on everything, I have to go through all my flash drives and Word documents to make sure I don’t have duplicates, and to ensure I don’t leave out anything. Novel writing isn’t my thing, but as so many of you have told me, poetry IS. I don’t have a timetable on when it might be finished, but hopefully it’ll be done late spring/early summer. Finding an agent, and a publisher, won’t be easy, so I’m giving myself plenty of time to pull everything together.

“…I’m not living for their approval

I’m not living for the person I once knew

I’m dying for everyone on the spectrum

so they can live too…”

This is a quote from one of the songs I wrote, and it’s the essence of why I write, why I started this blog, and why I hope to be a published poet. People say aspergians don’t have a voice, that we’re too shy, too quiet, and easily forgotten. We’ll never truly be part of society, because we’re not personable, friendly, or outgoing. I may be the living embodiment of the worst an aspergian can be, but I want to change those assumptions.For every one of us, I want them to know that it’s not all lost. You don’t have to stay in your autistic closet. Broken cookies really do taste better than whole ones. There’s more in your future than divorce and abuse. Your kids are just as beautiful and intelligent as the next. We can stand together, for all of us. There IS light at the end of this tunnel, and it starts here.

I’m grateful that you all have come to love and appreciate these words from my brittle heart, and I’m thankful that you take the time to comment and interact. You’ve made me a better writer.

And maybe even a better person, too…


Wondering if I should press post

I feel things deep, deeper than most

Because I dwell on my feelings

Throwing darts at the ceiling

as I torture my cats

with my off-key singing

I put up a good front

but God knows I’m faking

This brittle heart

is destined for a breaking

I try to take people in

and wind up turning them out

because I let betrayal seep in

I can’t not give in to the doubt

If only you knew

how much it hurt

Maybe you wouldn’t say things

that make me feel I have no worth

Make me feel like I’m not living

because deep down I’m really trying

but your way I’m just not buying

so over your head my words go flying

off to their death, dying

in open air, just like me

loud enough to turn heads

but quiet enough to be forgotten by bed


My 2016 Blogger Award Nominations


Well, 2016 is almost over, isn’t it?

Yes, sadly it is.

But that doesn’t mean we should forget about the good, right?

2016 was a fun year for me. In spite of my worst self, I had a lot of positives to take from this year. I graduated from High School. I started a blog that brings awareness about Aspergers, depression, and addiction. I’m getting followed on Twitter and WordPress by those going through the things I am, and that encourages me. It tells me that I’m reaching souls, and that is the greatest achievement of any achievement. I’ve drastically improved as a writer since I first took up this calling a year ago, and everyday I feel more and more confident in not only the words I say, but why I say them. 2016 wouldn’t have been made without you, and because of that, I’m giving out awards to some of you. Note, this was made especially hard by the fact that many of my favorite blogs are in fact award-free, but enough of that. Let’s get into it.

Thanks to Elm for hosting the 2016 Blogger Awards

  1. Blog Of The Year:

“Autistic Anna” has been absolutely spectacular. Her posts have been educational, encouraging, and even funny at times. Her knowledge surpasses some “experts”. Finally, her blog reaches me at a personal level, like anyone on the spectrum, and she’s close to my heart because of it.

2. Kindest Blogger:

Maureen leaves some incredible words on her blog, but I chose her for this slot because of what she leaves on mine. Every night before I go to bed, I read over my comments, and her words always stand out. She’s been with me nearly since I first joined WP, and I’m grateful for her every word.

3. Most Approachable Blogger:

If you don’t mind having song lyrics being sent to you faster than your phone can receive them, having to explain what NFL is, and being emailed at midnight just to say hi, then Esther is your girl. We started talking a month ago, and she was very upfront and honest in the face of all my suspicions. (I don’t trust people, sorry Essie) I’ve learned a lot about her through WP and Twitter. She’s really sweet, and it doesn’t take much to get her going.

4. Best New Blogger:

She’s only been on WP since September? I. Don’t. Care. Her poetry is beautiful, full of emotion, and always interesting to read. I hope she’s on here for a long, long time.

5. Most Positive Blog: and

I nominated Millie because she combines writing with the cutest animal on this planet, cats. I happen to live with two, so I relate easily with her posts. I nominated Michelle because her poetry isn’t just tremendous, it’s uplifting. She was also kind enough to introduce me to her daughter, who is an amazing poet in her own right. Cats, writing, and poetry? You can’t get more positive than that!

6. Most Helpful Blogger:

As I’ve grown on my blog, you’ve seen me talk more about my past. I used to be suicidal,  and while I’m grateful to have exercised those demons, I haven’t forgotten. Along with being an amazing host of #BlackDahliaProse, Kendra has been helpful and encouraging me as I fight through bouts of depression and recollections of my haunting childhood.

7. Best Looking Blogger:

Leyla’s blog is so simple, yet it’s so beautiful. Her images are unique and extraordinary, and she’s been with me since the beginning.

8. Most Relatable Blog:

Another great poet, Ana gets my nod for most relatable because we both write poetry, are introverts, and love taking pictures of the sky. Do her a favor and hit that follow button!

9. Most Creative Blogger:

Ally is an incredible young poet, and she kindly entered me into the Three Day, Three Quote Challenge a couple months ago. I liked that because it showed a willingness to partner with other writers and collaborate to produce different and creative works.

10. Funniest Blogger:

Check my comments to see why I nominated Tina for this award. LOL.

Seriously, though, Tina is great. She’s honest, real to the point of raw, and has been one of the most active people on my blog.

The Wildcard

Neither of these bloggers fit the above categories, but they deserve recognition. Davy ( writes some incredible poetry and is one of my favorite followers. Stevie ( writes very amusing poetry and is constantly on my Twitter timeline with great words of advice.


THANK YOU ALL FOR A GREAT 2016 (that isn’t quite over yet) AND GOOD LUCK IN THE FUTURE!




An Aspergian’s Week In Review


This week has been a busy one for your Maryland poet. Firstly, I’ve been published on SpillWords for a THIRD time. My poem “Where I’m At”, takes a look at what I’ve gone through lately and why I am the person I am today.

Here’s an excerpt, and you can read the rest here (

I hate exercise

because no girl wants me anyway

so what’s the point in losing weight

I eat too much

because I love and hate…

Secondly, I was nominated for the Mystery Blogger Award, this time my fellow spectrumite in Marisa Ulrich. She’s a regular on my blog, and I’m grateful for her contributions, as well as her own outlook from an autistic life(

So, what is the Mystery Blogger Award?

The “Mystery Blogger Award” is an award for amazing bloggers with ingenious posts. Their blog not only captivates; it inspires and motivates. They are one of the best out there, and they deserve every recognition they get. This award is also for bloggers who find fun and inspiration in blogging; and they do it with so much love and passion. Created by Okoto Enigma.


  1. Put the award logo/image on your blog
  2. List the rules.
  3. Thank whoever nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  4. Mention the creator of the award and provide a link as well
  5. Tell your readers 3 things about yourself
  6. You have to nominate people
  7. Notify your nominees by commenting on their blog
  8. Ask your nominees any 5 questions of your choice; with one weird or funny question
  9. Share a link to your best post(s)


So, three things about me? For one, I love cats. They are the sweetest animals, and they provide a TON of entertainment. I live with two, and there’s nothing like getting licked on the face to start the day. They also steal your food, if you let them. Secondly, Fall Out Boy is my favorite band. “Immortals” was the very first song I listened to of theirs, and ever since I’ve been hooked. “Infinity On High” is my favorite album, and while I listen to This Ain’t A Scene the most, I can’t decide between Dance, Dance/Tell That Mick He Just Made My List Of Things To Do Today/Disloyal Order Of Water Buffaloes/Grand Theft Autumn as my favorite. Patrick Stump has grown a lot on me. I’m not a big fan of his voice early on, but he’s improved in recent albums.

I’m nominating for this award. Her poetry is outstanding, and I really enjoy the hope that emanates from her words. I hope you’d check her out.

Here’s the link to my best post (in my opinion), one of my older posts. It didn’t get a lot of likes then, but…



A Simple Aspergian Dream That Seems So Far Away


I talk a lot on this blog about my shortcomings with Aspergers, mainly how difficult things like making friends and social interaction are. I talk about how hard it is to deal with being left out, because you’re shy or not “cool” enough. It’s hard to fit in, and while it’s not easy watching other people succeed at something while you trip, stumble, and fall over it every time, it doesn’t mean I don’t wish.

I wish a lot.

I’ve wished a lot of things. I wished I killed myself when I was seven. I wish my Dad killed me so I wouldn’t have to look at myself everyday with the same scars, the same sores, and tell myself I’m okay. I wished I’d walk out of the house during a drive-by, so I could put an end to all the pain in my head. I wished I had the courage to string myself up to a tree, or put a bullet in my heart, and rid the world of all my shit, all my failures, and all my inabilities. I wish people would stop trying to be friends with me, so they wouldn’t have to see what’s really inside me, what’s really on this side of the screen that seems to draw in so many. I wish…

In spite of those wishes, I’ve had a few nice ones, too. I wish I was sociable and confident, and I could get a job so I could stop seeing my Mom do it. I wish I was confident, and I could lead group discussions in classes I attend. I wish I was confident and sociable, so I could stand out. I wish I was strong, and didn’t carry the not egregious but noticeable belly fat that I do.  (Started an exercise program to help with that!)

But my greatest wish?

That I could be in a relationship. With a girl. Long-term. Like. Forever.

I want one of those romances that just goes on and on and on. Love that has no age. Love that stretches us thin but fills us and breathes on us. Love that makes you run down city blocks just to see her again. Love that people cry in movie theaters about. Love that people write about. Love that makes people quite addictions. Love that changes the hardest of hearts. Love that cures illnesses. Love that…

I know it probably won’t ever happen, but I can dream. I don’t know what to look for, but maybe she’s looking for me. Maybe she’s already found me, and she’s waiting for the right time. Or maybe she’s waiting for me to come out my shell. If so, she’s damn patient, because it’s been seventeen years and I still can barely get my head out. Maybe it’s false hope, maybe it’s just a fantasy-turned-obsession that will never pan out…

Or maybe it’s real and I’m listening to the doubt, again.

Wherever she is. Until she is. I wrote this…(maybe for her?)

“You had a great night? Awesome, I did too. I’m gonna be so sore in the morning.”

“So, uh, see you next weekend?”

“Alright. Night, Tracy.”

It’s early in the morning, just past three

Happiness, and excited wishes, my company

Walking down your block

as I mind wanders, I’ve over stimulated with thought

I’m really glad I could make you smile

even if it meant running for eight miles

because I know what it means to you

not to just love me, but for me to love you too

Hearing your voice brightens my day

I’d listen to your voice mail and let time tick away

I’m done being a boy

with someone else’s time being another fleeting toy

This life is so new

and of my inexperience, I’m sure you knew

But we don’t care

We just want to enjoy the moment, then and there

We have separate minds

but our hearts are still entwined

I know we might have to be far away,

but I know we’ll find our way

back to where it all began

where you and I first ran


Aspergers wears the HELL out of me, and a song explaining how


Sorry I couldn’t post anything new last night, but I needed to take some time and write. Much of what I write is for the blog, and I wanted to just write for me last night. I was trying to strain myself of all the stuff about my dad, and focus on more positive things.

So I’m back to Aspergers, which isn’t all positive, particularly when it comes to autistic burnout. Yep, you’ve heard of this term on here before, but I had an extreme case of it today at an end-of-the-year party I attended. I get very overwhelmed in social situations, and because I can’t just say “fuck this shit I’m out”, it makes it difficult to maintain my composure and remain cool. Simply, once I get overwhelmed, the day/night is effectively ruined because I’m usually unable to pull myself together in a timely manner. My public meltdowns also leave a bad taste in the mouths of those around me, which probably explains why people don’t remember me.

I don’t want to remember myself most of the time.

People make me tired. Between the social cues (when a girl looks a you, then looks away, then looks back in your direction), responding to those social cues, the ramifications of choosing to or to not respond to those social cues (usually more social cues), conversation (knowing you really don’t care but want to seem sociable), small-talk (why God?), and everything else, I’m left completely exhausted. So, for tonight’s post, I wrote a song about it…

(If you have an idea of what music might go well with it, leave it in the comments, or if you’re a music producer and like the song, that might be better)

I’m tired




Oh world, can’t you see me?

I’m tired of being tired

I spend the day walking through the blizzard

and the night through the fire

I’m so tired of purging my heart

and sacrificing my emotions

on the world’s insatiable pyre

If I had one wish

it would to not be tired

but in making that wish

I expend my fire

Because wishing

takes hope, it takes guts

and I’m too afraid to trust

I’m tired




Oh world, can’t you see me?

But when you see me, you see a failure

Someone who can’t get it done

You are not a player

You’re too rigid to be a creator

Too shy to be a father

Too anxious to be a leader

You’ll never be good enough

fast enough

quick enough

Well, I’m telling the world

I’ve had enough

I’m sick of being put down

I’m sick of being pushed

to the ground

I’m sick of your hatred

of your fear

because you never know when I’ll be far

or near

You can’t measure me

and you can’t control me

You can’t name me

and you can’t arrange me

So you’re scared of me

Well get ready for war

because I’m ready

I’m so tired

of everything you’ve put me through

And I’m so tired

of your games, always new

But if I did to you

what I want to do

you wouldn’t believe

the things I knew

I’m tired




Oh world, you’re not ready for me


An Aspergian’s Thoughts On Cheating



I hate it. It ruins relationships, families, lives, and communities. It blurs the lines of what is real love, and what is imaginary. It teaches that it’s okay to not stand by your word, and it makes commitments seem arbitrary and void..

It makes the words “I do” a choice.

I have a firsthand experience with cheating. My mom…I love her, and I’ve watched my Dad cheat on her time and time again. Women he’s worked with, random text messages, and emotional/I-don’t-know-what-to-call-them relationships with just about any woman he sees on the street. I guess it’s where I got the porn addiction from; the idea that women are objects and can be picked up and thrown aside as soon as someone bustier or with a fatter ass struts by. Everyday I see the emotional scars left on her by the abuse, and unfortunately he hasn’t changed. Some of family thinks that he gave her an STD, which led to my Aspergers…I can’t say, since I wasn’t there to witness it, but…

Because of how my Dad has treated my Mom, I’ve been a little hesitant to get into a relationship, because I don’t want to hurt a girl the way my Dad hurt my Mom. I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve feel like that’s the right thing. I know I’m not the same person, and I’ll never be, but it’s that little feeling in the back of my head that pops up every time I think about having a relationship with a girl. “Will I do what he did?” or “I’m not like my dad, I’m not like my dad, I’m not…”. The self doubt is endless, but the possibility of harming someone, to me, would feel much worse.

So, wit that in mind, I wrote this…

Another late shift

Another exhausting highway trip

But I think of you,

and none of it matters

And Trinity

My worst day is transformed by her laughter

I return home

she’s still up

and not one sign of you

I take her by her hand,

and tell her to go to bed

But she refuses,

crossing her arms

Her blue eyes are a sea

of discovery

a compass

to uncertainty

not a word uttered

as she looks back at me

and shakes her head

pointing heavenwards

I walk slowly

up the steps

And time seems too short

for me to gather my thoughts

I see a fire

a roaring, raging fire

that could never be extinguished

How could I have let

these embers grow?

How could these sparks

be unknown?

For so long

I thought we would live on forever

but now I know

that even the most beautiful flame

must die

I hide my eyes,

and sink behind the door


destroying, demoralizing,

spawning, startling

I thought we would live on forever

carried on by our teenage sparks

but I bitterly learned what you did

in the dark