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Spectrum in C Major
Fluorescent hum, a thousand beesnestled in my cochlea. I conducttheir symphony with twitching fingers. Routine: my lighthouse, my straightjacket.8:05 AM – brush teeth (57 strokes, always)8:12 AM – count ceiling tiles (412, a prime number)8:19 AM – ??? Yesterday’s schedule, origami’d into a paper crane,takes flight through the window.I chase it down sidewalks lined withlandmines disguised as small talk. Error 404: Social script not found In dreams, I speak fluent neurotypical,but wake with a mouthful of static. My mind: a browser with 147 tabs open,each one a rabbit hole offascinatingterrifyingbeautifuloverwhelmingeverything. Empathy flows like binary:01001001 00100000 01100110 01100101 01100101 01101100too much or not at all They say, “You don’t look autistic.”I…
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When a girl loves you
My girlfriend asked me to write a poem inspired by her, which I did. However, I wanted something unexpected, so this is what I came up with. Hopefully, anyone reading it will like it as much as she did. My poem: The sun peeks out and the birds start to sing,she writes your name on her notebook with care.Her heart goes boom-boom like it’s tied to a string,she thinks about you and it’s like you are there.The world is still sleepy, all quiet and slow,but she’s wide awake with a face all aglow. She sees you in raindrops that splash on her nose,in the waves at the beach where she…
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A son’s sorrow
In the past days, the Russian opposition has shown its true colors. They’re not really that different from Putin – they just use Western-style propaganda instead of Putin’s Eastern-style. It seems like Russian history keeps repeating this pattern of not really changing. My biological father was a nationalist who fought for Ukraine to be free and independent. He gave his life for this cause. I can remember him more positively than many Russians might remember their fathers. He was both a nationalist and a realist, which means he loved Ukraine deeply but also understood that the world isn’t simple. He believed in respecting life and wouldn’t just hurt people. Even…
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Seven sins
In the depths of human hearts, a darkness grows,where seven seeds of sin are sown in rows.From these foul seeds, a twisted garden flows,nurtured by the pain that no one knows.In silence, each corrupted blossom showsthe rot that through our veins and spirits goes. Pride, the firstborn, stands tall and proud,its thorny stems reach high above the crowd.With petals sharp enough to draw blood,it feeds on praise, a never-ending flood.Its roots dig deep into the mental mud,choking out all thoughts of brotherhood. Greed’s tendrils coil around all they touch,squeezing life from those who have too much.Its golden leaves reflect a sickly light,blinding eyes to others’ desperate plight.In boardrooms and in…
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My rainbow heart
Sometimes people don’t get why I’m me,but I know who I am, and that’s okay to be.When others say mean things, I try to be strong,I remember being different isn’t wrong.They want me to change, to be what they think is right,but my heart knows the truth, so I hold on tight.I’m not just pretending, this isn’t a game,I’m me from my toes to my brain. The world can be hard, but I won’t give up,my love is as real as water in a cup.When people say stuff that makes me feel bad,I talk to my friends, or my mom and my dad.They help me remember I’m special and free.My…
