I wrote this poem to give hope and to inform people about nonspeaking autistics. My love for people goes to help others. Laura Hastings put my poem to music and sings beautifully.
Hear me think out loud
Waiting, amid the jealousy.
Loads of watery tears!
Wanting and yearning for normalcy.
Keeping a wound for years.
Maladaptive truancy, lapses as time goes by,
And losing patience wavers me and calms my angry sigh.
I understand sadness as it permeates my soul!
Taking away my potency and never leaving me whole.
Masking my feelings of worthlessness leaves me alone, full of regret,
Feeding my insecurities, taking time to forget.
‘Twas the ignorance of well-meaning people who started this charade!
That speaking words equals intelligence and fear led their parade.
Autistics who don’t talk have plenty of words to say.
I know as I am nonspeaking and wrote this here today.
Longing to say to hurtful looks, that I am not a freak!
Painful to many of us; forward and bleak.
Look at us, as love leaves lasting memories.
Love creates presence in awesome trajectories.
May people who don’t speak, learn to pursue answers, leaving the toll behind.
Making the leap into kindness, promoting inclusion for humankind.
That includes all of us, you and me.
Making the trip on this loving journey worry free.
The reward is already here, taking fearlessness into our hands.
Preparing for a life worth living; being proud and taking a stand!
Good times are ahead and the world is ready to see,
That nonspeaking autistics, speak their minds differently.
Speaking is difficult and mugs are breakable!
BANG! went the lovely mug that belonged to my teacher. Panicked, she tried making me personally responsible. I was too embarrassed to take responsibility. I am autistic and I do not speak because I can’t. I behave badly when I am angry. I throw things and I upset the people who are making me angry. I always feel bad afterwards. Taming my impulses is a challenge because I feel too dysregulated.
The pieces flew like rockets, lasting moments in mid-air, as if they were going to explode on impact. My instinct was to run away, but my legs abandoned me. Looking back as I often do, I should have just made my teacher, shocked as she was, understand how it feels to be silent, without a voice. Wavering between palpable fear and always looking to please is exhausting!
Marred by my tremendous feelings of guilt, I acted the only way I knew how, by looking for a way out of the classroom. She chased after me, with her heels clacking somberly behind me. I wish I could have told her how sorry I was, and how her talking too much really made me feel foolish. “I promise that when I get caught, I will take the time to pause and reflect on my actions.” Lamenting painfully on why I did the dastardly deed. I tasted victory too soon! Lacking speech is massively torturous, and slows the maddening ability to make oneself heard, and is the equivalent to a mallrat needing eyes to see!
The learning of lessons is a hard masquerade, to keep all of your feelings inside. The panic that I felt because I was going to get caught, OOPHF! is nothing compared to the absolute fear of being punished for my sins, and for my silence. I decided to stop running and to start learning that fate will always catch up to you! Looking back, I never should have run, because I was really running away from MYSELF!
Eerily quiet was the classroom, upon my return. Leering eyes looked back at me as I was being brought back to the classroom. Much of the class felt bad about the teacher’s mug. Masking tape couldn’t repair this mess, and I was not even going to try! Keeping a straight face, I looked into her eyes and said, “sorry for breaking your mug.” Looking right at me, answering back she said, “that’s the last time I leave my brother’s mug at school!” She said I was brave for trying to speak. The truth is, I only said “sorry”, because that is all my inside voice came up with. Talking doesn’t always agree with me. “Matthew, I love you and I sadly have to send something to the principal to explain what happened.” I was taken aback to a place that I had not been before. Life continued, and I never threw another thing again.
Mark my adventurous journey,
I am used to applause.
Stay tuned, for I am an autistic.
Have you ever actually seen, understood what it is like to be an invisible,
tall forgotten force of nature?
Have you ever taken a trip to some alien land?
I have! I have wanted to go far away.
I still use effective strategies to arrive where I want to go.
Stave reaping rewards along this easy, eerie adventure.
Hear my symbolic plea!
Will you listen to me?