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Sara Barrett Nov 2024
Months burst with potential understanding
Thyroid, Childhood Cancer, Breast Cancer
And Autism - a landscape of perception
I knew little once
Before lived experiences carved pathways
Of comprehension
Hand flapping, repeated movie scenes
Specific sensory needs
Neurological landscapes diverse as humanity itself
From verbal to non-verbal
From sibling to parent
From self-discovery at 34
My perspective widens like a lens
Societal Echoes
The world whispers harsh narratives
"Discipline them"
"Fix them"
"Normalize"
But we are not broken
We are different
Intricate neural networks
Misunderstood symphonies
Digital age amplifies cruelty
Marginalization becomes performance
Awareness transforms to spectacle,
Unfolding Truth
Intricate neural pathways
Misread as discordant tunes
The digital age sharpens cruelty's edge
Marginalization dressed as entertainment
Awareness turned into spectacle,
A truth slowly unraveling
Hatred cloaked in the guise of compassion
Bigotry masquerading as care
April - a month of performative understanding
We see what others refuse to witness
Complexity beyond simple categorization
Humanity in all its beautiful, challenging variations
Spectrum wide as consciousness
Unbound by neurotypical constraints
This poem weaves together themes of personal growth, neurodiversity, and societal misconceptions, offering a heartfelt journey through lived experiences. It challenges narratives of "fixing" or "normalizing," instead celebrating the beauty and complexity of different neurological landscapes. Through its vivid imagery and poignant reflections, the piece critiques performative awareness and the digital age's role in amplifying cruelty, while advocating for true acceptance and understanding. A tribute to the resilience and humanity of those who navigate a world that often misunderstands them.
Flipping through a bundle
of identical sheets
I realise there is no difference between us

I, like the sheets
Hover the earth with no specific goal
Waiting for someone to scribble
an endorsement

But no-one comes
Because I am the paper and the ink
My experiences are my art
freely given materials

With which to bless,  beautify and build
When you realise noone is coming to save you
Harry Atkinson Nov 2024
On to the next
Before I have finished the first
Forgetting who?
Forgetting me?
A hunger or thirst
To finish third, second or first
A race against time
With the zone of my mind
Like ironing shirts
And each crease gets worse
Finding time for each urge
Defining what hurts.

Asking, how should I think?
Hurting who?
Hurting me?
A marathon and sprint
If I am only racing myself, how would I win?
A superpower and curse
You can never comes first
Though, you can never come last
Only move from your past
Tie your laces so fast
That the shadow you cast
Is the only version you craft
Casting who?
Crafting me?
In all that I see,
It will not alienate me
Finding my path
With ADHD.
silvervi Nov 2024
Maybe me calling my problem a problem is the problem.
Thoughts before I go to bed.
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