All posts by devereaux frazier

An aspergian who didn’t even know he was one until four years ago. I spent the first two years in bitter denial, disbelief, and confusion while trying to make myself believe I wasn’t this retarded sounding condition. The last two years have been much different, however. I read every book of John Elder Robinson’s, among others, that taught me about the condition, and this newfound knowledge made me more aware of my strengths, weaknesses, and who I really was a person. As you may already know, and will continue to learn through my posts, Aspergians are shy, quiet people who struggle with anxiety, social interaction, and relationships of every variety. But, there’s more to the condition than this. Too many times I’ve been ignored or ridiculed because of my glaring weakness in these areas, and I’ve suffered a great amount of guilt and shame because of it. It can lead to serious depression, and I’ve had many low points where I hated myself. Aspergers isn’t a disease. It’s not curable. It is something I have to live with, each and every day. After the first two years, where I became more active in finding answers to my questions, I began to realize something: I didn’t have a voice. I didn’t have an outlet for the pain I was feeling, and since I don’t know anyone personally who has my condition, I began to feel lonely. I didn’t know why at first, but I took up writing. I wasn’t even a very good writer at first, really just rambling on without any cohesion, but over the last two years of my life the fire turned up. I can’t go a day without writing, and I feel I’m improving every day. I’m trying new forms, and reaching out to other writers for inspiration, ideas, and support has helped me realize I’m not alone in this fight. I still don’t have anyone personal I can talk to about this, but that’s where pen and paper stepped in. My life has become a journey, and I'm glad to share it with you.

The War Of Poetic Conviction



waging endless war

against my unwavering condition

arrows of all kinds

and sizes

fly through the air in mass

darkening the sun as it rises

tipped with oil, tipped with fire

they rarely kill

but injure greatly

designed to cause will to waver

and crumble when the infantry

comes later

day and night the siege rains on

they cannot hold this city

but for so long

no food to re-wire my mind

no fountain to make me young again

cutting off my life support

the empty space I need to breathe

sanity drains from my mind

through an eternal sieve

even my blood turns a cold shoulder

like I’m afraid of living

the days of old

just when the night seems to end

the moon folds it’s hand

sneaking a cunning glance

at the sun and stars

as he pulls his winnings in a pile

the dawn turns towards the deceivers

eyes reddened with intense flame

with searing pain destroys the enemy

from this son comes poetic conviction

that topples the medical profession’s

worthless predictions

tone and diction, I’ve got it in my hand

to rally my soul brothers and sisters

it’s all part of my plan

The Good Doctor and Christian Wolf be damned

I’m tired of seeing us misinterpreted

given superhuman traits

just to make a cute story

our story isn’t for your entertainment

rather our struggles

cause lifelong derailment

tell them I’m coming

I’m going ham


Would You Rather Be The Disease Or The Cure


Quiet room

never empty, never full

always wishing someone

or something

could find in it a use

sitting in the heat of summer

and the cool of winter

initials carved in the bed frame

remind the emptiness how much he misses her

dust collects on unattended shelves

as the shadows take off their masks

and rest in this somber place of dwelling

windows rust, and sight into the world

becomes anyone’s guess

not even the Titanic herself

compares to this tragic mess

how one can fall

from the height of life

to lows

even zombies couldn’t comprehend

caught up in a whirlwind of love, lust, life

and feigned shots at immortality

does anyone even know what’s a sin

would you rather be the cure

or the disease

doing wonders behind closed doors

or all-powerful at the expense of every living thing

don’t pretend

don’t pretend


Midnight Loving


GREAT NEWS: My poem, Pleadings Against The Preposterous, has been nominated for the Spillwords Publication of the Month. It would be amazing if my piece was selected, so go here to vote


Midnight kissing

blinds us from seeing the door

pushing you backwards in the shadows

of blinds left half open

onto a desk

pictures of graduation ceremonies shattered

now shut up and breathe


now harder, faster

I shatter every once of fantasy

graduating from hand holding

I’ve stolen third base

lip locked loving

has your heart at any speed

but idle

first the camisole,

then whatever is underneath

I don’t care about clothing

let me stoop down and bite you

then lower

with two fingers

on the inside of a tiny muff

you lower your head, hands on mine

I’ve just thrown you the hottest curve ball

but instead of walking off in disgust

you beg for more


you dirty whore

crying for inches to arouse a watery paradise

I hate to hold my head under water

but I’ll drown for you

in you

turning over to reveal

a bottom so wide

it would make Bear Bryant blush

susceptible to the draw

let me draw myself inside

and burst a gaping hole

into an open field

I can only feel my way through

blindly punishing

I hammer for minutes on end

then I release

energy concealed in consent

white light of my body

in your mouth

do I clense




The Monster Inside A Child


I’m the one
they put on poles
with reward written in red
lipstick from the sex slave
they mark the hunted
adulterated youth and broken sense of trust
defiled by the brutality of humanity
crawling through the night, I only drink
from the puddles underneath dirty tents
or what collects on windshields
fists buried deep in pockets
head hidden under a black hood
nobody sees the eyes
burned from reading degrading comments
those who share a last name
the tears sometimes carry me home
when my feet can’t take the streets anymore
the people won’t let me walk with them
children turn away
teens kick rocks my way
I’m a freakshow, an outcast
and their barbs sometimes can’t be outlast
but someone was different
they took the key
opened my jail cell
no price, no fee, no tax
just an open door
another shot at life
don’t shy away from the bullets
light a flare and wave it on a hill
that’s me
the heathen
washed up, dirty, and unwanted
to anyone but my fellow autistics
I’m all but forgotten
crazy and careless
mentally disabled
but self enabled
to make you aware of this
you don’t know the aspergian
sitting next to you
why anxiety and depression
is sitting next to you
don’t ask
what we might do to you
don’t look into my eyes
look into the barrel
hope I’m empty
emptier than the space that’s in my heart
wishing for parents who knew my name
or a friend that I could say
I’m glad to see you again
when you’re angry
and depressed
when you try to live
try to love
but life’s a mess
sometimes it’s easier
to just press reset

What You Could Be To Me

Sitting on the edge

of a busy road

humidity climbed out the back window

a girlfriend uninvited by parents

unfortunately temporary

rain makes the sky clear

and a calming breeze

wraps around the essence

of chocolate donuts and espresso

I picked up from work

thankful for my coworkers


and wonderful customers

they make my job ever more enjoyable

and while they don’t know who I am

(maybe they do)

(that’s okay too)

I’m grateful they care regardless

as dark as I’ve felt

as troubled my thoughts are

as alone I feel I am

and as behind I feel to be

some people make it worthwhile

there are people I’ll get up early for

pretend to be open and happy for

smile for

extend a hand for

and if I close enough to you

care for

there’s very few people

I feel this way for

but they’re one of them

and you might be



Blogger Recognition Award: Thanks For Choosing Me Over Everyone So Much Cooler


For the third time in less than a year, I’ve been nominated for the Blogger Recognition Award.

This time? By my friend over at Cocoons Are Sometimes Comfy. One of my favorites on WordPress, I’ve grown close to the words to this poet’s fantastic words and similarities regarding life on the autism spectrum. The stories are sometimes eerily similar to what I’ve gone through, and the resounding strength that speaks far after I close the page is rarely outdone. Thank you friend, you’re the real MVP (or however they say it on social media)

Anyway, the rules:

  1. Thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  2. Write a post to show your award.
  3. Give a brief story of how your blog started.
  4. Give two pieces of advice to new bloggers.
  5. Select 15 other bloggers for this award.
  6. Comment on each blog to let them know you’ve nominated them and a link to the post you created.

My blog started back in late August of last year.  I had known about my aspergers for four years but had done little to do anything about it. WordPress has always been addictive to me, but this was different. And better. Blogging gave my voice some wheels, and the knowledge I gained from books (and soon other bloggers, like my sweet soul sister’s Laina, Beth, and more recently the wonderful voice behind Just Me) began to steer my life into the direction I never thought it would. I started opening up, and sharing my experiences (, being honest about the struggles my condition gave me (, and really just discovering my voice as (from what I’ve been told) a pretty damn good poet. Thanks to so many wonderful voices, I’ve learned more about myself, become a better person because of it, and in turn been able to shine light for others who were just like I was just a few years ago.

Two pieces of advice for you new bloggers. One, just post. Pressing “publish” is the hardest part, but once you do it, the momentum will carry you to wherever you want to go. Don’t make yourself do anything. Let it happen, and you will be surprised what becomes of it. Two, say thanks. There are COUNTLESS blogs, so the fact that someone took the time to read (and maybe comment/reblog) yours is very, very special. Ever since I started, I always remember to say thank you to my readers. It’s not hard to do, and doesn’t take much time. It shows you care about others.

Now, to my nominations…. (I will ignore her words “I  I can’t think of why so many people will like it” in reference to my favorite band)





The Menace Inside Makes Me Young Again


Shadows convene

at the edge of every alley

one foot planted in reality

the other against the wall

smoking cigarettes by the carton

breathing in the toxic waste

of a choking humanity

and out come black fumes

so sensual in wafting

from nostril to nostril

even the prostitute looks up from her slumber

and pleasures herself once more

together in twilight

they burn the ashes of dead dreams

and light the fire of forget

roll in the cunning of a serpent

and blow it as sweetly as a promiscuous witch

sweeter than the honey

that drips from hardened nipples

hanging lower than the blade

of guillotines sent to punish the adulterer

strip me bare and beat me blind

I scream I’m yours, I’m yours

as the skin peels back, dancing

to half time

throwing fuel around my feet

the soul gasping for air

raises itself higher on the cross

while the aborted fetus bleats

I love the menace inside

every day I age

she makes me young again



The Love And Life Of Death


The setting is a late May evening

and the sun is just beginning to wane

the grasses are as green as can be

the warm summer rays touch

skin darkened by the halls of recluses

and eyes drunk on the monotone beat

of a single heart

the horizon speaks to me

in ways no human could ever

color elicits emotion

only my darkest days would ever see

drooping sunset

with patch, see-through clouds

for skanky lingerie

calms me better than any

green eyed, freckled face

powered by an engine

stoked by fire of rejection

I reject the clown suit

appreciate the complexion

of life riding the fine line

life and death, I’ve seen both

lived and loved


I never knew

why the silence loved me so

treated me to knowledge

people seemed to refuse

I’m so hot

dirty mind, spinning you a web

of lust, lies

and forgotten faces

all in time

before the moon turns on her heel

and I fall into sleep

till our next divorce counseling meeting


I Didn’t Believe I’d Be Where I Am Today

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I didn’t believe

I would do anything that I’ve done today

I never saw, or even dreamed

that I’d be where I stand today

just a few years ago I couldn’t come out the house

in fear and angst at the outside world

just a few years ago I didn’t volunteer

and while confident in my abilities to be a published author

I never thought I’d have even a part time job

especially not in customer service

just a few years ago my whole life was porn and Madden

now I’m repaying the anger with hum of fingers on these keys

call me Darren McFadden

the anger I used to take out on my family

on strangers

on me

frustrated at the disability that I could never see

the desire but lack of strength to set this soul free

if only I could see the door trust me I’d make the key

now today I know I’m stronger than they said I’d ever be

when I put down the Clorox

and opened up my soul

to some guy living in the sky

I realized he could make me whole

He showed me that my condition

was a gift

put down the knife, put down the concrete

and mend this rift inside me

aspergers humbles me every single day

it reminds me that without him nothing will go my way

when I’m feeling down I put pen to paper and I pray

somebody please take this anxiety away


goes the pain

goes the regrets

go the doubters

and to everyone who saw me write nonstop

and said I was wasting my hours

this one’s for you

for the lovers

for the haters

for those who don’t know me

and those who wish they did



The Darkness Chokes The Sense Of The Homeless


The darkness chokes the sense

of the homeless

throwing punches of humility

and stealing the cents out of hats

too big to fit the head of a ten year old boy

silence awakens the mind of a soldier

trapped in a traumatized mind

he marches up and down his home to Iraqi time

and swings an AK around his head like a toy

bullets rain down in a cascade of calamity

and with the blindness of humanity

there’s more to this never ending story

of birth, disappointment, and death

medicine buys you an extra breath

but takes away twice the life

adults cheat on each other

teens resort to the knife

and poor babies, they don’t get any rights

there’s more vacant houses on a single block

than the times the gangster will cock his glock

at the very thought of red and blue

shallow crooks like Hillary say they know what it’s like

If only they knew

an eye for an eye, tooth for tooth

here’s some ecstasy and pot

in exchange for our youth

mom’s leave their children

in search of better pay

while feminists overlook the rising level of strokes

and the blood in the streets from where kids lay

nobody to guide them, that’s fine

let Justin Bieber lead the way

but he won’t give them back their time

tired of hearing about gender

while the news makes everything about race

let’s focus instead on treating each other like humans

because we all belong in this place