Autism is an enigma.
To try and understand autism is
to understand that there are certain
limitations on logic where autism goes
and you cannot follow.
Certain ways of wording that seem
paradoxical and abstract
to me, are as logical and sensible
as the sky being blue and the grass green.
How can a pitch black room be too bright?
How can absolute silence be too loud?
How can it be that a dull grey is too vibrant?
I ask you to, please, abandon your logic,
And we shall journey to help you understand.
Autism is a road.
A path fraught with shadows and shrieks,
a street with blinding lights and
damnably deafening silences.
It twists and turns and writhes
and makes clear that of roads travelled,
this is one that is less trekked than most.
it is a walkway that can be traversed,
one that can at least be mapped out
even if it cannot be taken together.
It is a pavement that has trials a plenty
and makes merry with how it pains me but
I promise you, truly, these tribulations
can be overcome, and here I am to prove it.
Autism is ever evolving.
No two days are ever the same for me,
one could be a day where I am truly free,
the next where even the best efforts are not enough.
Yet there are those that say this is an illusion
Or a penance for crimes from a life that I know not of
Or even that my entire existence should not be.
While this condition is both blessing and curse,
This assumption of my so-called affliction means
Every day is a new defence, new retort that I have to rehearse
But wait, there’s a question here and it’s not what it seems;
Let’s face it, at the end of the day,
why would you want there to be a cure
when to yourself, instead, you can be pure?
(c) Tiernan Kelly