Autism: A Poem of Anger


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.



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United by outdated cement glue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


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


And doused flame

Is birthed anew




3 thoughts on “Autism: A Poem of Anger

  1. 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 🙂


  2. 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.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s