The Unraveling

autism is
a hurricane:
i wrecked this room
the second i entered it.
it is
the sun
burning holes into retinas,
it is
running in circles around me;
i forgot
how to breathe in this
smog.

autism taught me
that the meaning of words distorts
when your face melts into a snarl;
it taught me
that you were better than
because you didn’t need a manual;
but you,
you showed me how to fight
for my humanity:
i fought with teeth bared,
silent
and they told me i was too passive
for love.

once,
i knew a love that was gentle
and sweet
like fruit in tennessee
but it was sticky like
old jam, and
in the heat I swam too far
into you;

my fever
broke.

autism taught me
to see through the fog:
you were coming and i,
i,
i,
i dove
into the sea.