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I'm sorry
I awake in the morning
Cold,
Sometimes hot
I,
Stumble to the bathroom,
Blinded by the light that I’ve just popped on
I brush my teeth with the spiciest toothpaste I can find
I,
Gargle with 90% alcohol mouthwash, just so I can feel some type of sensation running through my body
Then,
As I look in the mirror and see a shallow,
Good for nothing,
Tormented man,
I began to cry
I began to sulk and wallow in my own despair
Discomfort,
Inability to connect with neurotypical people
What do you do when your best isn’t enough?
As the tears keep falling,
I slap myself,
Punch myself for not being smart enough to grasp the concept of a simple smile,
Touch,
Feel
I’m expected to be a provider,
A lover,
A best friend and,
A dance partner
A drinker,
Someone who smiles everyday and pretend that their life means nothing when they’re around other people
I’m expected to be everything and everyone besides myself
I’m expect to come home and cater to everyone’s every need and want but,
Who asks me about my day?
Who checks on me and asks me how I’m feeling?
As a man,
It doesn’t work that way
I was taught to hide my feelings while also being sensitive
But,
If I’m too sensitive then I’m not a man
If I’m not sensitive enough then obviously I have childhood trauma that I haven’t dealt with
If I’m not a macho man who goes around barking orders and “putting women in their place”
If I don’t take initiative,
Pay bills,
Plan dates and forget about my life while catering to others
Then I’m no man at all
The minute I do,
I’m controlling and abusive
No matter how tired,
Exhausted or drained that I am,
I have to smile to please the others
In a crowd of people I have to dance,
Interact and maintain eye contact because their wants and needs are much more severe than mine
I have to wear this invisible ski mask and mask my autistic nature
I’m being robbed of my identity and who I am but if you’d ask anyone else,
I’m the crime against nature
I’m the one that can’t accept that my autism,
My facial expressions,
My tone of voice is what makes people not want to be around me
It makes people around me think that I’m not having fun or enjoying their company when in reality,
They’re too damn ignorant to educate themselves on the life I live because it’s more about them than it is me and I was stupid not to realize that
I wipe my tears and realize that nobody will ever understand my true nature
I wipe my tears and realize that nobody will ever accept me for who I am
I wipe my tears and realize that the way I am doesn’t matter to other people and if I’m not the person that they want me to be,
Then,
I’m a nobody
I’m worthless
You know what’s sad?
The minute I die,
Everyone will cry,
Lie and say how much they’ve missed me and how they wished I would’ve talked to them or they should’ve seen the signs
They only loved me when I did what they wanted
They only loved me when I was the person that they wanted me to be
In essence,
They only loved me under the condition that I be their laptop or slave
But when I’m gone,
They’ll still talk in the sense that I was never enough for them,
And I wasn’t,
And,
I’m sorry
© All Rights Reserved
Cold,
Sometimes hot
I,
Stumble to the bathroom,
Blinded by the light that I’ve just popped on
I brush my teeth with the spiciest toothpaste I can find
I,
Gargle with 90% alcohol mouthwash, just so I can feel some type of sensation running through my body
Then,
As I look in the mirror and see a shallow,
Good for nothing,
Tormented man,
I began to cry
I began to sulk and wallow in my own despair
Discomfort,
Inability to connect with neurotypical people
What do you do when your best isn’t enough?
As the tears keep falling,
I slap myself,
Punch myself for not being smart enough to grasp the concept of a simple smile,
Touch,
Feel
I’m expected to be a provider,
A lover,
A best friend and,
A dance partner
A drinker,
Someone who smiles everyday and pretend that their life means nothing when they’re around other people
I’m expected to be everything and everyone besides myself
I’m expect to come home and cater to everyone’s every need and want but,
Who asks me about my day?
Who checks on me and asks me how I’m feeling?
As a man,
It doesn’t work that way
I was taught to hide my feelings while also being sensitive
But,
If I’m too sensitive then I’m not a man
If I’m not sensitive enough then obviously I have childhood trauma that I haven’t dealt with
If I’m not a macho man who goes around barking orders and “putting women in their place”
If I don’t take initiative,
Pay bills,
Plan dates and forget about my life while catering to others
Then I’m no man at all
The minute I do,
I’m controlling and abusive
No matter how tired,
Exhausted or drained that I am,
I have to smile to please the others
In a crowd of people I have to dance,
Interact and maintain eye contact because their wants and needs are much more severe than mine
I have to wear this invisible ski mask and mask my autistic nature
I’m being robbed of my identity and who I am but if you’d ask anyone else,
I’m the crime against nature
I’m the one that can’t accept that my autism,
My facial expressions,
My tone of voice is what makes people not want to be around me
It makes people around me think that I’m not having fun or enjoying their company when in reality,
They’re too damn ignorant to educate themselves on the life I live because it’s more about them than it is me and I was stupid not to realize that
I wipe my tears and realize that nobody will ever understand my true nature
I wipe my tears and realize that nobody will ever accept me for who I am
I wipe my tears and realize that the way I am doesn’t matter to other people and if I’m not the person that they want me to be,
Then,
I’m a nobody
I’m worthless
You know what’s sad?
The minute I die,
Everyone will cry,
Lie and say how much they’ve missed me and how they wished I would’ve talked to them or they should’ve seen the signs
They only loved me when I did what they wanted
They only loved me when I was the person that they wanted me to be
In essence,
They only loved me under the condition that I be their laptop or slave
But when I’m gone,
They’ll still talk in the sense that I was never enough for them,
And I wasn’t,
And,
I’m sorry
© All Rights Reserved
