|
Mired in a familiar hopeless hope;
See the solution, but not the question.
|
| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem of any type. But there can only be two lines. Maximum syllables is 20. |
Author Notes
I am high functioning autistic. In so many ways, it is the best of me. And, in so many ways it is the worst.
When I was a child there was no name for what I was other than "gifted." This didn't account for what I was robbed of and all things promoted as solutions for me neglected to explore the question of why I was like I am.
IQ tests, challenges, higher curriculum, college, career, advancement, success.
Peer disassociation, relationship wrecks, playing social roles (skilled liar training), loneliness, isolation, inability to relate, awkwardness, emotional detachment, stunted emotional development.
It gives and it takes.
|
|
