March Ache

Write another masterpiece

but for what purpose,

to prove

to people who won’t listen you’re here?

(That assumption, “won’t.”

You think you can predict the future, will they, won’t they?)

You think out of all the years, I’ve never tried

whispering in someone’s ear

writing a better poem

explaining my experiences softly, then loudly?

communication goes two ways

but communication’s only half talking,

look, you want a court case of evidence?

—

Let’s start small: when he analyzed a slam poem for homework, he called her expression frenzied,

I went, “no, she ain’t in a frenzy, not mad as a hatter, that’s the feeling of suppressed frustration, rISING up,

don’t you feel it, she’s mad at people like you and the fact is you still don’t get it.”

But I didn’t say that out loud, no, cuz too many times I’ve said things less harsh

and he’d nod his head, agree equality’s important, say something to show how good and not-wanting-to-offend he was,

then nothing changed.

He’s still a good little guy

on top of our good little world.

When I emailed my whole family late one night that I was trans or something and couldn’t keep hiding it

my mom woke me at 5 the next morning thinking I was planning to kill myself

then made sure my little siblings didn’t read the email

six years ago I told my dad I was gay or something and he’s never said a word about it since,

except to share memes that compare rainbow flags to communist ones.

But the truth is

I never realized that was bad

because you said how often you loved me.

You wanna know why I’m mad?

Just look at your own mouth

your own hands

you never kicked me out

but you sure make me wanna run

you don’t know me

you know the ideal you want me to be,

who ain’t frenzied

who ain’t upset

who’s on the same level of contentedness as you are,

no, no,

here’s the trick,

if you strip back the anger,

you will find shame and sorrow,

like,

how could you not come for me

when I couldn’t sleep

how could you interpret this so wrongly,

did I not speak soft

enough,

how could you miss that I’m so self-centered because of this black hole in my heart

yeah I get it might rip you apart

but whose fault is that? Not mine, I’m still fine

I’m still going,

if you don’t want to know me

at least stop pretending like you do,

you talk a lot about unconditional care

but it sure is good at glowing like vaporized meteor showers

and lasting as long too

if I keep rambling about the same silly pain

maybe it’s because you haven’t heard it yet

won’t hear it yet

you have your own world

and can’t believe I’d want to leave it to heal mine,

claw it from the depths of a black hole heart

and set it next to a nice sun, millions of lightyears from you.

—

But here’s the rulings of the court:

this autistic kid

can’t even get their own rocket

this autistic kid

retreats into stories

and hopes one day

these words will take over the world.