This is what emotions feel like to me. How I stuff and try to navigate the days, until I can no longer keep all that is inside of me, and I burst.
Doused
Shattered brain
Made whole
Reorganized into Frankenstein pieces
Stapled segmented fractures
United by outdated cement glue
Jumbled mess of fool’s last breath
Inhale, hold in the gatherings
Decompress the decompression
Take in and take in
And layer the findings
Amongst the sorted graveyard
Stuff, stuff, stuff
A tango with acceptance
Blindly forges through
And then . . . BANG!
Out spills the wreckage
Finger to triggered-heart
Barging forth
From hunting grounds
Untethered, unchained, untamed
Weeping ghosts
The ones left behind
When tolerance erased
Righteous anger
Stuffed, they were
All these tattered children at play
Pushed down
Joy severed out
Beneath sandbags
Clomped upon
By battering feet
Indenting spikes
Laid to rest
Until enough
Finds the camouflaged threshold
And entrance is forged
From tangents
Tiny tots that slither up
Through the power-driven holes
Into the forbidden escape
Splinters merge
Resentful sprouts
Spiraling clinging green
Pulsating, past the layered clumps
And suffocating silence
Emerged scorned
Slaves alleviated from the dictators of right
Ooze about in placating submission
From the basement-level panic room
Flung open
Soaring sparrows crashing
Into unsuspecting windows
One after another, bloody heads clang
Fall motionless onto earth’s bedding
Rapid beating hearts, bead-like eyes
Death enters
Then leaves
Tainted with reaper’s scythe
Future horror swings
A captain perched
Upon mismatched layered slabs
Abandoned boards
Rearranged
Into flight
Until, alas
Tempered by the heap of trespasses
Far out of reach of smothered patience
Damn dam breaks
Fissure waters burst
And subordinate tears
Forge refreshed into sharpened words
As exhausted angel
Rising phoenix from the ashes of shadow demon
Ignites
And doused flame
Is birthed anew
Everyday Autistic 
I am encouraged to see that you ended your poem on a positive note. It is not a sin to feel anger, but in how we choose to express it. Knowing this has helped me somewhat. Though I can relate to much of the themes of disorganization confusion and pain, I am new at the rising phoenix part. There is life after anger, meltdowns/shutdowns. One or 100 bad days in life don’t dictate the others. Thank you 🙂
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I am still learning 🙂
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I don’t know if you are Christian, but many traits of aspergers are ones that match up so well with Christianity, like being a peculiar people, and being aware of your limitations even hourly, always trying to be a better person, empathy and compassion. Your poem seems so sad.?Jesus says come to Him all who are weary and heavy laden and He will give you rest because His yoke is easy and His burden is light. I’m not advocating for church here. I don’t even go myself, but I would really be in a mess without my very personal relationship with my Lord. His Word is my special interest.
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