My Own

I walk with my hands stuffed deep

Into navy blue pockets

I care not whether my eyes drift above

Or below the ever changing skyline

I’m coming apart at the seams, so I walk slow

Taking care not to rattle the demons inside

They don’t understand why I’m so silent

Yet outbursts in the most obscene of ways

There’s pain, there’s penalty, deep in my veins

And I have to let it out

Men don’t cry, so I keep it inside for angels

To water heaven with, in time they’ll see me

Standing on the edge of a bridge, no breath

What’s left of me is the part that won’t quit

The champion that keeps me punching back

My fingers hurt writing what I can’t breathe

And my head hurts saying what my lips won’t

If I could tell you I loved you, I’ve told you

A million times already, a million dreams

That only I can seem to make real

It’s one thing to be in love, it’s another thing

To be in love with someone that’s real

I can see her, and she can see me

But I do not think we are ever going to be

The entity I wish us to encapsulate

So let’s hear it from AAA

America’s Autistic Assholes

Because I’m one of them, unfortunately

And fortunately

I’m not you, I’m me, and because I’m me

I do the things I couldn’t do in any other body

This is my legacy, and mine alone

Whether I’m hanging from the ceiling fan

Or writing these words on the bus ride home

I am my own

I am

My own

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