I just spent the larger part of the morning writing about anger. It ended up being much longer than I had hoped, and opened up things that I had not anticipated. Great! Now I have to process anger. Well…My track record has been good with processing emotions so I will cling to the recent positive experiences that have transpired by tackling them head on. BUT anger is very hard for me — it is tied into a multiple of other emotions. I have never learned how to handle or express my anger properly. I also do not know how to handle someone else’s anger. That is a whole topic on its own.

Instead of exposing myself when I do not feel quite ready I will talk about John Keats.

Has anyone ever thought John Keats was an Aspie? I was just curious. I did not see it when I searched, but I did find that he suffered from depression. However, as I read some of his personal writings I thought it was interesting and felt very familiar. I read several things about John Keats last night. Then, ABC Local Conversation with Richard Filder “Tony Attwood” was on fb this morning that of course, I got sucked into because they used quotes from Mr. Darcy in the 1995 TV mini-series version of Pride and Prejudice. Which happened to be the first thing I saw with Colin Firth, and since I do adore Mr. Darcy ever so I got a little fixated with Colin. Don’t try to figure it out, I don’t know either.

Dr. Tony describes an Aspie mother and I said:”YES!”

He basically described many things in my life, and I am sure many others out there who need some confirmation today would find comfort listening to this. He is focusing more on women and girls later in the talk. He mentioned how AS girls can escape into imaginary worlds, and have imaginary friends. It made me laugh because yesterday I was talking out loud as an owl and a raven. They were my friends telling me the story that I am working on. I know that they were not real. It is just how my mind works. It is so funny how this talk is confirming so much of what I wrote out about dealing with anger. I am making more connections. It was confirming about what I am currently doing to try to find new coping mechanisms. It is confirming about me being a whistle-blower, my sensory intuition, my spy like qualities , and many other things. It is a great talk. I recommend listening to it.

Ok, back to John Keats.

This site Keats’ Kingdom had interesting facts like “Keats when he became a published poet collected every scrap of paper containing his earlier poems and burnt them as he considered them to be awful.” Um…no comment. Here are some excerpts that I found interesting as well. I am going to add my comments and indicate them by beginning with *.

Sent to Fanny Brawne February 1820

“For some reason or other your last night’s note was not so treasurable as former ones. I would fain that you call me Love still. To see you happy and in high spirits is a great consolation to me – still let me believe that you are not half as happy as my restoration would make you”

- Shows how Keats could be very selfish and inwards-thinking. Jealous and demanding

* The author here claims that Keats is being “Jealous and demanding” I question that after reading about his life. From my Aspie perspective (which really means nothing I am just stimming) I would say he is confused by her seeming happiness without him. He does not want her to feel unhappy, he treasures her joy, but he needs to know that she is missing him as much as he is missing her. He is feeling intense emotions that he felt she was feeling as well. However, by her note he is unsure which causes him to doubt her feelings. This confusion my life has often been labeled as jealousy and being demanding. He was consumed by her. In past writings he made it clear that he was uncomfortable around woman. I will share more of that later.

I wonder how many Aspies have been accused of being jealous or demanding when the reality is, we do not understand the social dynamics going on. I also wonder how often we act out in this because like Tony said in the above talk we prefer one-on-one instead of multiple people. The addition of another person can cause confusion about the relationship, and the relationship with the additional person. Relationships are so difficult. Is it that when we decide to give someone our affections we expect the same amount in return? If we see them being happy with others it could make us feel inadequate to the relationship? I don’t know these are the thoughts popping in my head at the moment. I am writing this on the fly.

“My sweet creature”
“I wander at the Beauty which has kept up the spell so fervently”

- It is strange that Keats should refer to his muse as a creature rather than a woman. Later on, he suggests that she has bewitched him, and can’t understand why she’s captivated him so much.
Fanny must have been somewhat confused by this, as Keats paints a picture of himself as being in love with Fanny, but for no particular reason except that she’s bewitched him.

* I do not find this strange at all. I express my love through animals, nature, colors, or numbers in my poetry or stories. I am able to confess my real emotions through the way I see creatures, or the world. I am not sure he was expressing that he was bewitched, but possibly he was able to express his affections in that way because it felt safer. He had never been in love before, it could have been too overwhelming to say: “Fanny, I love you”. He could have been terrified of the words — only able to express them through poems that indirectly, but cryptically revealed his true passions.

It is far easier to express your love imagining a creature as your desire of affection rather than the actual person. The creature will not reject you, and possibly he was purposely being cryptic because it was his cherished love that he did not want tainted by anyone else. Possibly she was the only one who understood what he was saying. I do have a kind of tragic love story brewing from the owl and the raven so my imagination could be taking flight here, but I will not expose anything. This is too fun.

Sent to Fanny Brawne June 1820

“..as usual I have been occupied with nothing but you: I wish I could say in an agreeable manner. I am tormented day and night”
“You are to me an object intensely desirable- the air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy”

- It’s clear that Keats is hopelessly in love with Fanny. But as the letter goes on, the tone changes, almost becoming patronising:

“.. you have a thousand activities- you can be happy without me”
“You do not feel as I do- you do not know what it is to love”
“Ask yourself how many unhappy hours Keats has caused you in Lonliness”

- He just assumes Fanny doesn’t care that much for him, or perhaps he’s trying to provoke a response so that he can feel better? (assuming she will be kind in her reply)

* I do not think he is trying to provoke a reply here. Maybe he is I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem to go along with his character. Imagine thinking that you would never find a person that you could have such strong feelings for, add being confused by the social dynamics of that species, to discover one has caught your affections and seems to have the same affections. It would be scary, and if you have been abandoned before, such as he was as a child it would prove to be very challenging to trust your emotions and those of the other person. I think he has found that connection that he had never felt before and he does not know what else to with it. It is confusing to see her happy without him when he is so miserable without her.

It is hard to explain for me with friends, and even family it has been difficult to understand how people are so able to move forward without me. I have felt like it did not matter if I was around or not. Surely they never cared for me as they said they did because they are perfectly fine without me. It is part of the “all or nothing” mindset. I am getting a lot better in this area, though it is hard for me to grasp sometimes. It is not that I want them to be miserable, I just want to know that they miss me, I matter, and that they think of me. Just as I think of them, maybe not as obsessively, but at least fleeting happy thoughts. Lol! (I am not always obsessive…really…ok, about people anyway. )

It’s hard to understand where I stand in relationships.

I have expressed it before that I need someone to tell me if we are friends I will not figure it out. Well after years maybe. Like my one friend here, it took me two years to finally understand that we are good friends. I didn’t know this until a few months ago. I figured since we had not seen each other in so long that we were done being friends. I just assumed that we were finished with any kind of friendship and let it go since I had not seen her or heard from her in a while. I didn’t have any ill feelings — I just thought well it was a good run for me. Wow, that sounds kind of strange now that I wrote it out. I’ll leave it. More on Keats…

I found these letters on this site John Keats and Fanny Brawn. 

Keats felt uncomfortable with women and contemptuous of them. In July 1818, he wrote:

… I am certain I have not a right feeling towards Women–at this moment I am striving to be just to them but I cannot–Is it because they fall so far beneath my Boyish imagination? When I was a Schoolboy I thought a fair Woman a pure Goddess, my mind was a soft nest in which some one of them slept though she knew it not–I have no right to expect more than their reality.

I thought them etherial above Men–I find them perhaps equal…. I do not like to think insults in a Lady’s Company–I commit a Crime with her which absence would have not known–Is it not extraordinary? When among Men I have no evil thoughts, no malice, no spleen–I feel free to speak or to be silent–I can listen and from every one I can learn–my hands are in my pockets I am free from all suspicion and comfortable. When I am among Women I have evil thoughts, malice spleen–I cannot speak or be silent–I am full of Suspicions and therefore listen to no thing–I am in a hurry to be gone–You must be charitable and put all this perversity to my being disappointed since Boyhood–. . .

I could say a good deal about this but I will leave it in hopes of better and more worthy dispositions–and also content that I am wronging no one, for after all I do think better of Womankind than to suppose they care whether Mister John Keats five feet high likes them or not.

* Hee hee I love it! I feel the same about certain women. Sorry it’s true, and I have felt the same about certain men. Indeed. The next part amused me very much. Not in a sick way, just in a familiar and comfortable way. He was soon to meet the love of his life Fanny Brawne which makes this whole story very tragic, sad, wonderful and glorious at the same time.

It is not surprising that he would rather not marry, preferring solitude, the life of the imagination, and the appreciation of beauty:

…I hope I shall never marry. Though the most beautiful Creature were waiting for me at the end of a Journey or a walk; though the carpet were of Silk, the Curtains of the morning Clouds; the chairs and Sofa stuffed with Cygnet’s down; the food Manna, the Wine beyond Claret, the Window opening on Winandermere, I should not feel–or rather my Happiness would not be so fine, as my Solitude is sublime.

Then instead of what I have described, there is a Sublimity to welcome me home–The roaring of the wind is my wife and the Stars through the windowpane are my Children. The mighty abstract Idea I have of Beauty in all things stifles the more divided and minute domestic happiness–an amiable wife and sweet Children I contemplate as a part of that Beauty. but I must have a thousand of those beautiful particles to fill up my heart. I feel more and more every day, as my imagination strengthens, that I do not live in this world alone but in a thousand worlds–No sooner am I alone than shapes of epic greatness are stationed around me, and serve my Spirit. . .

Letter, Oct 1818

He goes on to explain, “the opinion I have of the generallity of women–who appear to me as children to whom I would rather give a Sugar Plum than my time, form a barrier against Matrimony which I rejoice in. “

I had not read all about John Keats until yesterday.

I had read his poetry before, but I had not dabbled into his life. I did not know any of this and ironically the story that is playing around in my head has very similar themes. I am not claiming that John Keats had Aspergers I am just seeing parallels for myself. And playing around to help me not get consumed in loops that I do need to get caught up in. I do find his life, and his love very interesting and I can relate very much to many of the things that I read. Who doesn’t want to consume information about John Keats? Come on! (giggle, giggle)

Here are a few links that I read:

John Keats

The Life of John Keats

The Grasshopper and The Cricket (Poem) 

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I am feeling a sense of loss. I wish I could blow this off, but it is very hard when you are left to wonder. I also have a friend who has opened up to me, I still have not responded to her. I am kind of at a loss of words, and feeling awkward because we have not seen each other or spoken for a while. It’s times like these that I wish I understood how to handle these situations. I really wish I understood how to move on, and not get fixated on the “why’s” of situations. Or at least understood when to stop asking why. I am pretty sure I may be saying that for the rest of my life.

The Rosebush & The Cloud

The downcast rosebush,
tired and feeling frail from her masters pruning,
looked up to the sky, and said to the wise old cloud,
“I guess I have to be pruned some more, really?”
Wise cloud looked down with a fluffy soft smile,
no words for her today,
she stared at him waiting for a reply with hopeful eyes.
He tried to comfort her in silence,
feeling abandoned she sadly looked down,
“How much pruning can one take?”
Pondering a little while longer,
she mustered up some strength, trying to be hopeful,
“As much as they are willing to take to blossom, I presume.”
Wise cloud looked down with reassuring eyes, in a breeze he spoke,
“Blossom sweet rosebush, focus on the blossom, and do not get lost in the pruning.”

Poetry and clouds, I smile. That is all.

Quotes from one of my Top 5 books of all time “Franny and Zooey” by J.D. Salinger

“Maybe there’s a trapdoor under my chair, and I’ll just disappear.”
- J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey

“I feel so funny. I think I’m going crazy. Maybe I’m already crazy.”
- J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey

“An artist’s only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else’s.”
- J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey

“We’re the tattooed lady, and we’re never going to have a minute’s peace, the rest of our lives, until everybody else is tattooed, too.”
- J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey

Excerpt from THE DRY SALVAGES (No. 3 of “Four Quartets”) by T.S. Eliot

Lying awake, calculating the future,
trying to unweave, unwind, unravel
and piece together the past and the future
between midnight and dawn, when the past is
all deception, the future, futureless…

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond by E. E. Cummings

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

Excerpt from To You by Walt Whitman

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem,
I whisper with my lips close to your ear.
I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you.

O I have been dilatory and dumb,
I should have made my way straight to you long ago,
I should have blabb’d nothing but you, I should have chanted nothing
but you.

I will leave all and come and make the hymns of you,
None has understood you, but I understand you,
None has done justice to you, you have not done justice to yourself,
None but has found you imperfect, I only find no imperfection in you,
None but would subordinate you, I only am he who will never consent
to subordinate you,
I only am he who places over you no master, owner, better, God,
beyond what waits intrinsically in yourself.

Painters have painted their swarming groups and the centre-figure of all,
From the head of the centre-figure spreading a nimbus of gold-color’d light,
But I paint myriads of heads, but paint no head without its nimbus
of gold-color’d light,
From my hand from the brain of every man and woman it streams,
effulgently flowing forever.

O I could sing such grandeurs and glories about you!
You have not known what you are, you have slumber’d upon yourself
all your life,
Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time,
What you have done returns already in mockeries,
(Your thrift, knowledge, prayers, if they do not return in
mockeries, what is their return?)

The mockeries are not you,
Underneath them and within them I see you lurk,
I pursue you where none else has pursued you,
Silence, the desk, the flippant expression, the night, the
accustom’d routine, if these conceal you from others or from
yourself, they do not conceal you from me,
The shaved face, the unsteady eye, the impure complexion, if these
balk others they do not balk me,
The pert apparel, the deform’d attitude, drunkenness, greed,
premature death, all these I part aside.

Insert happy clouds here, a mailbox for trees, and a moonbow from Iceland.

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Ariel wanted to do dragon poems. I think we are in an obsessive state that is all she is drawing, playing with, talking about, and writing about. We’ll just go with it. Dragons rock!

Dragons

By Ariel

Dragons are cool.

Dragons need help,

With people giving them food and water to survive.

They need people petting them,

And riding them,

Because nice dragons like that.

Mean dragons—stay away from.

They need to learn how to be nice.

When you see them move backwards slowly,

Then they may start liking you.

 

Dragon

by Ariel

Nethew is his name.

He is red and black.

His eyes are blue.

In the summer and spring he stays outside

And the sun makes him shine on his back.

 

He has green points on the back of his arms and legs.

He has sharp teeth,

Because all dragons need sharp teeth to eat meat,

To make them strong.

 

He says hello a lot by saying “RAWR”

Because all dragons need to say “RAWR”

When he was little he said a tiny “rawr” like a baby,

But when he was grown-up

He said “RAWR” so everyone could hear him

When he was flying,

When no one could see him.

 

The color of his wings are yellow.

He has three claws on his wings,

Four legs.

He shoots out an earth ball.

He lives on Colden, my secret planet

With other dragons who are his friends.

 

When he turns mad,

His eyes turn glowing red,

He gets mad when other dragons tease him

Or other mean dragons hurt him.

Or when people try to fight him.

He plays a lot.

 

He likes to run and exercise,

To get strong

To defeat in battle and win in the dragon war.

 

He likes to fly a lot too

To see birds,

To play with them and meet them.

 

He eats meat, animals that die,

Or people who die in war,

Or if animals kill a person,

He eats the bones

Because he doesn’t want to kill.

He only hurts bad guys,

Because he doesn’t want to die.

He likes to hang out.

He is a very happy dragon.

He protects other dragons.

 

Star Wars Lego

by Joshua

Luke is my favorite,

Because he was a gun guy

And Luke was a Jedi.

Hans Solo, I like a little

And I like Luke the best.

Hans Solo has a gun,

But he is not a Jedi.

Obi-Wan just turned into a spirit,

I don’t know how he does that.

 

The Alien Walker

by Joshua

I really like it because of the guys.

And the green trap.

It can fly

It flies into space with the aliens.

They fly to their home,

Alien Glass Planet.

It’s really cool because,

It has three legs and three feet.

 

Darth Maul Lego Watch

by Daniel

It has a clock in it—SEE!

The face spins right and left.

Its white and red and black.

It has white in it.

Darth Maul Lego spins on my watch.

 

Cell Phone

by Daniel

Its gray and black

When I close it,

It makes a “roun” sound.

The battery is a rectangle one.

I like batteries,

They make electricity.

I like the numbers on it,

When I push them they go to the screen.

The screen looks like a TV,

But it’s just a phone.

 

Because today I do not feel like laughing. I am reminded of how different I feel from others because the things that make me laugh do not always make others laugh. The things that make me cry do not seem to have the same effect on others as well. It is times like these that I want to shut myself up from all of the world and just stay in my safe controlled space. I feel alone even though I know others know what I am feeling and may feel the same way.

It is still isolating and painful sometimes.

Feeling disconnected from the world and people. But I know it will not last and the best way to help myself is to write something, so I wrote a poem about laughing. I am not wrong for laughing when I feel like it and I am not wrong for crying when I feel like it. Whatever my reasons, they are mine and that is ok. I am allowed to have these feelings. So I will remember also, that sometimes I laugh and cry at the same time and that is ok too. I refuse to allow myself to shut down and cut myself off, the way I so desperately want to.

 

Laughing

From one extreme to the next,

I find myself quite perplexed.

~

Crying, writhing for the hearts broken,

when suddenly laughter is burgeon.

~

What a quandary of non-sense I feel,

when out of darkness a smile appears.

~

Rolling, thunderous pounding from my gut,

uncontrollable–No! I can’t stop!

~

Senseless to some,

strange for another,

for me freedom,

it puts any fear far and asunder.

~

Quaking can no longer stand,

when the laughter is not band.

~

Open mouths free to cry,

bring in the laughter, give it a try.

~

Silly peoples, serious with pout,

causing us quirky’s to feel left out!

~

No need to worry,

no need to sigh,

out of our strange deeds,

should smiles abide.

~

Memories flooding, crashing my dreams,

laughter cascading among the scenes.

~

Once we few, left in the cold,

laughing alone, yet still rather bold.

~

I see a face, I question why,

funny eyebrows, they make me cry.

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I have this on my poetry blog as well but I felt like sharing it here also. I think faith is more than a religious term and can be the thing that keeps us going, well faith, hope and love all are powerful things in one’s life. If we feel that we have lost one of them it can lead down a path of feeling alone, lost and desperate.

I really need to take a break from the computer but I cannot seem to pull away. I didn’t realize how much emotion I would feel having so many social networks sharing so much about autism awareness. It gets me thinking about all kinds of things and it brings a lot of mixed emotions. I tried to have words to write but I have too many words that are crashing together and not flowing, along with no words at all. It’s frustrating. I felt that I wanted to get this out because my mind is going round and round and is fixated. Right now the only way I am really able to express myself is through writing about the pictures that are like Polaroids flashing in my mind. I also have my life playing like a movie over and over again and I am hoping that by writing this it will help me to stop fixating. So this is what came out.

Autism to Me

The light that shines in my darkness.

The answers that healed my heart.

The frustrations of not understanding.

Discovering that my mom and I just misunderstood each other throughout my life.

The joy of being able to have freedom.

The day he finally spoke.

When I scream at the top of my lungs.

The time I danced and leaped because he used finger paint.

The time he flipped out in the store and all the people stared,

I carried him to the car and cried.

The time he flipped out at the checkout,

the cashier and people behind us glared, AND I no longer cared.

The smile that woke me up this morning.

My daily struggle with anxiety.

My very loud laughter when I am not supposed to laugh.

Me laughing with my kids when they are laughing….and they are not supposed to laugh.

Us going out in public in whatever we want to wear!

Me bringing specific foods for each of us so we can participate in society.

Painful feelings of isolation.

Exuberant feelings of relief.

Hours in the bath tub.

Being terrified of the phone.

Having sleepless nights.

Being afraid and not knowing why.

Needing comfort and not knowing how to get it.

Longing to be with people but not know what to say or when to say something.

Not wanting to be around people at all!

Being happy being alone at times.

Seeing things that other people never see.

Saying the things people want to say but never do.

Staring blankly but thinking many things.

A mind that never stops.

Having batteries, fans, typewriters, recorders, and cameras as toys.

Collecting many, many things.

Organizing things.

Dumping things.

Jumping, running, pounding, clanging, pouncing and spinning.

Not wanting a hug but needing one to find calm.

Crying because writing is too hard.

Screaming when shampoo is put on their hair.

Walking out in front of cars because he is so desperate to get away from something.

Listening to hours of talking about fans, Lego’s, animals, games and social situations.

Learning new teaching techniques and therapies, to finally find the ONE.

Realizing that there is no just ONE.

Discovering that people do not think the way I do.

Learning social scripts by writing social stories for my kids.

Anxiety, fear, joy, laughter, pain, goodness, something new almost every day.

My whole life.

Everyday, my past, my present and my future.

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Not One Voice!

Similarities, yes they are seen.
Some uncanny, quite extreme.
We seem all the strange beings.

But look again and you will find,
we all have our unique unstrange mind.
Our existence you cannot bind.

We are one in space and time.
But we don’t always understand,
our own kind.

We speak in one accord,
through means uncouth,
but we do not pretend,
we could live under the same roof.

Moments we can,
moments we can’t.
We do not stay quiet,
we have to vent.

Some of us attack,
Some of us unite!
Some us just want,
to get through the night.

Stop trying to conform us,
into your creed.
We flap, we flip,
we drool, we scream!

We work for fortune 500,
and somewhere in between.
Can’t you just stop,
with trying to restrain?

We are not one voice,
we are a legion that cries!
Those of us who speak,
cannot just pass by!

Look at us all,
even you, my community,
stop bending to the
one voice tragedy.

Look at each other,
our spectrum is vast!
We can speak up,
and break the mass!

All I have are my words, floating through my mind.
I try to speak them through my lips; they jumble and make no sense.
I cannot look you in the face and say what I feel.
I look around; I close my eyes, my hands they move as well.

Feeling Faint.

My face gets flushed, my heart beats fast.
Sweat begins to bead–your eyes they distract me.
Your eyebrows move about, your nose moves up and down.
There is a wrinkle above your brow, your lips are moving too fast.

Flapping Sounds.

I look above your head; I whisper what I want to say.
“What did you say?” you question,
Hands covered my face, trying to catch the words.
They are all inside my head, now running into each other.

Jumbled Mess.

Just let me write them out, let me type away.
It’s too hard to speak to you, today.
My written words are all I have to give you, I hope they will do.
If I try to say this out loud, it won’t make any sense to you.

Rambling Chaos.

When I write them all down, the sentences just flow,
The words get in their proper line and my fingers just go.
Don’t make me try to say, all these thoughts in my head.
Let me write them down for you, maybe then you understand what I said.

It seems we’ve shared a common enemy.

He stole our words,
filled us with fear.

Told us that no one,
would ever hear.

He forced us to think,
that we were all alone.

He bellowed and laughed,
as he claimed we had no home.

He filtered our thoughts,
they were funneled through shame.

He whispered lies,
making us feel insane.

He walked,
and held us tight

He made us afraid
to speak what was right.

At times we fought him,
at times we won,

then we were trampled by conformity—
his son.

He led us astray,
into paths that scared,

Having those feelings
that we have always feared.

Then one day it happened —
We found our voice.
We found our way and made our choice.

“Someone is out there!” cried deep in our souls,
Someone feels me, this familiar abode.

We went in search for freedoms from fears.
We’ve written our thoughts through torment and tears.

We’ve been finding each other through common themes,
We’ve reached out from our heartbreak and joy, mixed with no perfect words in between.

Both comfort and pain, we felt from our words. We’re healing, becoming stronger with each key stroke.

Though we have common pains, the victor of our past no longer has claim.

We are uniting and speaking out.
We are fighting and pulling down his evil laugh.
We stand in our strength and look him in the eye,
Shouting, “We have beat you!”

This is our battle cry.

And while we stand and see his real size,
We start to walk away seeing the fear in his eyes.

Goodbye enemy you common thing —

SILENCE

You no longer can lay any claim.

When I don’t have words-
Please don’t make me speak.
When I have too many words-
Please don’t try to stop me.

When the sounds are too much-
Please don’t ask me why.
When I do not recognize you
Please do not be hurt.

When I am feeling anxious-
Please just let me have peace.
When I scream and cry-
Please just let me be.

When I finally want a hug-
Please just give it and go.
When I am so tired-
Please just sit with me.

When I say I don’t understand-
Please don’t get frustrated with me.
When I laugh inappropriately-
How about you laugh with me?