The Update
By Joshua Corwin
I tread transgressions
against how far I've come
as a kid diagnosed
on the autism spectrum
at the age of 5
and processing delay
at 6
along with anxiety disorder
and ADHD—
I don't want to repeat
circles, with my feet.
One smaller and the other
—reminds me of my mind.
Neurotypical.
[also, alcoholic—
Thank God I'm sober,
but that's
another story.]
Like a pacifist in rage
I need to accept my brain chemistry.
But persevere.
Circles.
Those feet
make them.
Quake.
And color loses its vivacity...
Like the squeamish self I am—
(Just
see me at the doctor.
Please.
Don't.
I'm embarrassed,
by how I fade.)
O, it's so hard
to fit in
when you're hardwired
to differ.
Range
like a spectrum of shapes:
I circle,
but I transcend.
But because I do,
I have these fits
{usually every 3 months or so,
sometimes once a year}
It comes from acting
typical
when you're
atypical.
—did I tell you I had to learn
thousands of idioms?
[I thought...
when someone
said, "it's raining
cats and dogs,"
That it was.]
—flashcards of rules...
I don't want to rock back and forth,
as I pass on going out the door,
because I am now the floor...
unable to speak
when I have so much to say...
That happens every now and then...
and my feet repeat themselves in circles...
around a shape—a square or rectangle or circle perfect:
the kitchen table, where Dad is late
because he's paying the bills,
so I can get the therapy I need,
and the speech therapy
—to learn idioms...like..."it's raining cats and dogs"
—I feel like "it's raining cats and dogs":
the words and screams of atypicality,
in dysfunctional
familiac ways—words invented
I have so much to hear.
I have so much to say.
I'm trying to not repeat the circle and fall on the ground...
But perhaps. Putting on the guise
and persevering like I do.
Perhaps, I need to fall.
Perhaps, I need to circle.
How else could I draw the line
of when it's time to stop the update?
[This poem first appeared in Placeholder Press, "Archive", December 31, 2019.]
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