Tag Archives: suicide

You Only Know Who You Think I Am

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Poetically cunning

words leaving brains and hearts humming

and while you’re eager to read on

you only know who you think I am

late night writes with Pete Wentz in my ears

in attempt to ward off nightmarish fears

but I put on a smile to cover it up

so you only know who you think I am

work is mental drudgery, and family is worse

but my good moods come in spurts

they think I’m okay

but you only know who you think I am

inside I feel like I’m dying

and this week wants to make me stop trying

but I don’t tell you what’s really going on

and you only know who you think I am

I stand in the pouring rain

there’s little I like better

but you think I’m insane

and I let you believe who you think I am

I sit by myself, I have no friends

hell, it takes me ten minutes just to press send

you think I’m antisocial and crude

stupid world, you only know who you think I am

I write everyday

to reveal everything

and nothing

to make you think you know who I am

I am depressed, anxious, angry, and dejected

broken, shy, disheartened, and rejected

failure makes me afraid to try again

socially I have to pretend

I hope I’m not like this forever

because there’s gotta be someone out there

I just haven’t met her

or I did

and I failed her

(now I’m regretting everything again)

you no longer have to guess, now

you know who I really am

 

Taking My Own Life

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I just might give up

on life

maybe get reincarnated

and allowed to make it right

everywhere I go

people seem to be laughing

and everywhere I go

the masquerade is crashing

I’m not ten anymore, I can’t hide behind my family

I’m nearly an adult, even though I don’t want to be

I don’t feel like I’m ready

I . Don’t. Feel. Ready.

I can’t make friends, my family doesn’t even like me

“he’s not much fun to be around” I heard my mom say

and brother and sister agreed

“he hears more than you think he does”

that’s also true

and it’s why I hate you

uprooted me out of my home

never gave me a chance to adjust

and threw me a few miles north

become a man I must

or risk losing all I ever had

which was just pens, notebooks,

a nearly full writing pad

just over 225 blog posts, three award winning articles

and one published in the October 2015 Edition

of Teen Ink

but they never let me think

the way I was created to

they just expect me to function

the way they do

no wonder I fail, you stupid asshole

excuse the profanity

but I just can’t take it anymore

no space to be an Aspergian

no space to be me

but underground has plenty of room

that I’m sure you can see

the tension is rising, the anger turning me raw

my mouth bleeds

from the pressure of it all

I read works of other aspies

and see how they overcome

(thanks Laina, Beth, Marisa, Keely)

(I’m sure I’m forgetting some)

but they can’t solve my pain

they can’t give me a family

that understands my name

talk behind my back, just like my Dad did

but told me he was this terrible person

and here you are, pretending to be holier than thou

I guess that makes you worse, then

all I’ve ever wanted

all I’ve truly wanted

was a family who understands me

someone who hears me

and someone who loves me

for who I am

not what they want me to be

not what their eyes can see

I am autistic, but human first

please, let me live happily

God forbid I tell them

how I feel

they’ll just shrug it off

the weirdo at it again with another squeal

so I bury it deep inside

deep inside my bones

it’s rotting my mind

stealing my time

and taking me away from home

or maybe I want it to

take me away from them

they don’t know me, they never will

I can’t be free, so to this heart

can I kill?

 

 

Published On SpillWords!

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Hey everybody. I’ve been feeling down lately and wasn’t in the mood to publish any poetry tonight. I DID get published again on SpillWords. My poem, “Pleadings Against The Preposterous”, got published yesterday and I’d hope you’d take the time to read.

(It’s about teenage suicide)

http://spillwords.com/pleadings-against-the-preposterous/

 

 

 

Autism Awareness Month Post Eight: I’ve Got Troubled Thoughts, And A Self Esteem To Match

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One of my favorite Fall Out Boy lyrics, “I’ve got troubled thoughts and a self esteem to match” matches perfectly with my inner dwellings as someone with Aspergers. I’ve always had issues with doubt, confidence, poise, and joy. I mean, it’s hard to believe in yourself when every time you go out you laugh at something serious, and then miss a simple joke. It’s hard to hold your head high when you’ve grown up with people laughing at you,  believing you’ll never amount to anything.

Eventually, you try to take some action, either good or bad. I thought about committing suicide, clearly the wrong choice, but I wouldn’t be the first, and sadly, I wouldn’t have been the last. There’s not enough aspergian voices out there. The lovely Marisa Ulrich, Beth at amileinmyshoes, and Laina at The Silent Wave are some of the greatest voices I’ve ever heard, but we need more. So for my eight post of Autism Awareness Month, I wrote a poem some of things I’ve had to fight internally as an aspergian.

 

I know I’m ugly

but I wake up everyday

I know I’m shy

but I give my all on Friday afternoons

I know by BMI is too high

but I sweat it out every night

in tears, in words

I pen the pain

in the sun, in the rain

to make this soul feel good again

if you could see inside this heart

you’d know, you’d know

if you could see inside this heart

you’d know the flow

of this autistic mood

and coming soon to screens near you

is an Aspergian

with a chip on his shoulder

the size of Boulder

Colorado

and hidden under shyness and fears

is a growing bravado

beyond my years

born and raised

by those who still don’t know

why sometimes I’m fast

and why sometimes I’m slow

why I can have thousands of followers

who’ve never seen my face

yet fail to make friends

whom I see face to face

why I can write poetry

that can bring a room to its feet

yet fail to notice her smile

and hands, ready to reach

why I go through all of this

I don’t know

so many have taken their lives to be free

that I know

yet here I am

day after day

trying to learn new tricks

and maybe make a friend, or two

one day

I’ll understand it all

but for now, I’ll keep writing

and pouring out this heart

and thanking all you commenters

who in this journey take a daily part

keep calling that girl,

despite the bad reception

and maybe build up

a long lasting connection

for now, I’ll keep living

for all those

too afraid to speak

the dark words that condemn

the profession

 

Hey Coma, You’re Breaking My Heart

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 Where are you now

dear friend, dear friend

I’ve searched everywhere

but you’ve chosen to hide your face

I close my eyes and say

come home, come home

why do you refuse me

Do you not remember

the times we had

Did my love, my ways

not make you glad

Of all the people on Earth

there’s none I’d rather see than you

and of all the ways to spend this life

I’d only want it to be with you

The sun warms me

and the moon guides my night

but you’re not here, so incomplete

is my life

The stars cross the arch of space

while comets and space rocks race

but standing still is me

without you by my side

Maybe I’m trying to make possible

what fate has deemed unworthy

what if this is nothing

but a futile way to give my life meaning

please tell me

before I do what cannot be undone

 

An Aspergian Suicide Turned Romance

wamtac

Cold winds

blow over waters so deep

I try to reach for her soul

but she’s too deep

Betrayed and dismayed

at the life she was given

She tried to make her own

and found herself in prison

Trapped by boyfriend after boyfriend

who said they’d go to the ends with her

only to dump her

when they found she had Aspergers

Depression led to regression

and the cuts went deep

Hospital bills cut deep

into her father’s pockets

Lost at the mire his little princess was becoming

he turned to books, videos, and doctors

but was no less cunning

One day, while the family was away

she walked onto the balcony

It was windy that day

With one bare foot, she stepped onto the railing

and she closed her eyes

dreaming of flailing

But when she opened them

she was being held against her will

Thrashing and crying, she gave in

her soul had its fill

A sleeve cleaned her eyes

and a hand touching her face

closed the floodgates for good

I had been watching her

for three years, and after much thought

I did what I had known I should

She didn’t dress like the queen

I knew she was inside

and as far as books went

she wasn’t dumb or wise

She was who I’d been looking for

my Aspie girl

I had to search no more

she was my Aspie girl

I pressed my palms into hers

the sting of open flesh was too new

but so was this connection between us

that neither of us knew

but it felt right

it felt right

We could’ve spoken

but silence was golden

and in the strength of two

the tiniest spark is emboldened

College: Why I’m Incapable Of Functioning In This World

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I’m not going to spend many words on this, because it’s pretty simple.

My college experience lasted a big ‘ol two days. Why? Because I’m so stupid I didn’t realize when the financial aid advisor says “you can’t register for classes unless you have a GED or High School diploma”, you don’t then proceed to go to classes, rack up a $1700 bill, and buy over $100 worth of books. Books that I’m not even going to use. So, all that excitement is now a shitty, god-awful feeling that makes me feel like I’m utterly incapable of functioning in this world.

OH WAIT. I’M NOT.

Beyond the complete embarrassment and disappointment is the heart of all my problems: I can’t function in the world in it’s current format. I can’t get a job, I can’t make friends, I can’t even get along with people long enough to become friends, I can’t convince people of anything because I’m too shy and thus seem a nonbeliever myself, I can’t stand up for myself and usually let people run over me than speak up…the list goes on. When I was younger, I could get by with youth, or with the protection that family offers, but as I’ve gotten older, I have less of that protection and the world really gets to see the shitbag that I am. I CAN’T EVEN REGISTER MYSELF FOR A FUCKING COLLEGE COURSE THAT I NEED DAMN IT. But it goes back much further. In an interview for State Farm, when asked my biggest weakness, I said “working with people”. And to think I got upset for them not calling back.

“No shit genius. You’re applying for a people-centered position and your biggest weakness is people. Dumbass.”

I don’t know if I need therapy or a bullet, but there’s only so much of this I can take. The failures keep mounting, and I don’t have an answer. It’s been four years since I learned I’ve had Aspergers, and my biggest achievement is this blog. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. I can write and tweet all day, but I can’t do anything that helps my family, or my future, and I feel awful about it. I’m at a loss for any useful words.

At least since this fiasco is over, I can go back to reading everyone’s blogs 😦

An Aspergian’s Fears About Being Himself

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How the last few days have felt, in one picture

I’m self-conscious (overly) regarding my Aspergers and how it relates to others. I feel when I’m stuttering, or when the anxiety starts rising, or when people start looking at me weird. I just ball up inside and start crying. A lot of times, I actually do. And that probably makes me look like a bigger wuss (or pussy, or whatever people say these days). It’s not something I can control…it’s like a hostile takeover, and it happens everyday. So, feeling possessed (or about to be), I wrote this….

Four walls

and a creaky door

A few windows that groan

is you step too hard on the floor

My home, yeah

my prison

and did I choose this place?

I didn’t

It was given

at birth

and everyday I live

I have to make it work

and it sometimes hurts

because people aren’t as nice

as I’d like

and fewer understand

my plight

this bug

inside my house

this glitch

controlling me, subduing me

and all the while saying

“I’m a new me”

and that’ll never be

cause without this bug

I’m deadbeat

Trying to navigate

this life of mine

Why I can’t make friends

but stay publishing rhymes

Would I give up

these words

to let her voice

be heard?

Would I give up

this pen

if she’d let me

commit a little sin?

Questions

and no answers

there will never be

I had my chances

so just like

everyday

I lose another life

still trying to figure out what’s wrong

and what’s right

with this crazy life I was given

and why I’m driven

to inspire with words

wouldn’t my voice be more easily heard

I don’t want to die alone

I’m scared, friend

If I keep this up

I’ll have to bury my own

I want to find someone

I can call on for a lifetime

not just a body

or a drink when I need a high

Living alone

can test your limits

because you’re the only one

there to witness

Four walls

and a creaky door

questions answered

when I hit the floor

 

I’m An Alien On The Wrong Planet

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Today was awful. My weekly WAMTAC meeting (read here for more https://marylandpoetblog.wordpress.com/2016/09/09/remembered-for-centuries/) went poorly, and not because of anything anyone did, to me or else. I simply had a nervous breakdown today. I couldn’t talk, I didn’t want to talk, and I added very little to the group. I felt awful not contributing, but I couldn’t make the words come out. I feel like jumping off a bridge and ending it all, and I’m only feeling worse…

 

Come out of yourself

Sure

Surrounded by all these outgoing teens

and then there’s me

When you’re the only one

not talking

You realize

you’re a weakling

nothing

nothing worth anyone’s attention. anyway

So many thoughts

so much to say

but this will always be

the only way

I’m ever understood

and I’m older now

I should be more outgoing

I should

I’ll never get a job

or a wife

otherwise

but often, being personable

is the last thing on my mind

I’m tired

of feeling left out

but when I speak

I feel stupid

shut your fucking mouth

Crazy

how art can bring so

much out of me

so much good

so many words

and even more

the real me

the fucked up me

is left unheard

I want to speak out

but I don’t know how

so I’ll let the others speak

let me seem weak

clueless

this disorder

makes me useless

no girl

is dating a fucking poet

no artist

makes money while they’re alive

I’m as talented as Poe

dying slowly in my Baltimore home

Legendary like Shakespeare

wait, I don’t write erotica

this emptiness

is real

when the only one listening

is you

Fuck, they said this would get easier

life probably broker

and I’m still a loner

 

 

Dear Casket, With Scenes Of Romance

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(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