They say I don’t have many friends

Because I’m weird

Too odd to be included with us

And though outsiders hardly put up a fuss

To find out the source of grotesque hate

Every time someone tries to stand for truth

They’re shoved a heaping pile of revenge

And told to eat hastily from a broken plate

Reflections of self loathing in mannerisms

Deflected onto unsuspecting witnesses

My plight is a mountain heaved by millions

Yet special to this very one, painless it isn’t

But teaching moments arise

with every breath

I struggle to breathe, but refuse to be dead

Aspergers may take my fun, and my friends

It may take my relationships, chance for love

But it cannot take my name

Depression can tame my fire, not extinguish

My smile will wane

But not retire

4 thoughts on “Loathing

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