Falling is a metaphor for everything
from love to death to a mouth full of land sharks,
but especially change. Not as in spare change, but as in when the walls
that have been holding you in or holding you together
turn their pockets inside out
and you fall.
Author: autisticpoet
Here I am praying
to the smell
of escape.
Sort of like cleaner,
harsher. More iron.
An iron flute, a fingernail file.
We’re playing chess with prison bars.
still
here are hands
that are really good at pretending
to be someone else’s hands
here are hands
that are really good at pretending
to be stuck nails
see them shine
how bright
words
“drawing blood”
as in “drawing curtains”:
pulling blood shut
“drawing blood”
as in “drawing paper”:
blood to draw on
You say
“I’m useless,
just an apple
core”
I think
you’ve forgotten
where the seeds are
my breath holds me
My lungs know what they’re doing
better than I do, so I never hold my breath
for a count of ten. My breath has grown up
and doesn’t want to be held by me anymore.
It has found ways to hold itself.
It has so many arms.
I’ve stopped really
looking for things anymore
I’ve started just swallowing
everything I touch
on people who ignore “I can’t”
“Nothing is impossible” you say
and you try to teach a loaf of bread to swim.
Say it will get better with practice,
instead of just falling apart.
exceptions
soft things cannot splinter,
except for hearts
and wings
search
Did you look for me in the bird throats of your pockets?
Did you look for me in an apple core,
doorknobing seeds?
Did you look for me in the shredder
with all the secrets
you weren’t sure you could keep?
Autistic Poet 