FUCK RFK, AUTISTS WRITE POEMS

Unmasking is like…

Photo by Tamas Pap on Unsplash

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Unmasking is not unlike giving up
the straighten of my hair each morning.
No longer waking up laden
with an hour’s fear of burning my ear

Loosening my hands by my side
to shake (flap) them
like an overwrought teenager
in an old film, trying to regain
composure. “Cute girl stimming.”

But it isn’t a trip to return
to some imagined moment when I
was under control
and just a way to shake out
those weird bugs that crawl
over every nerve ending in my soul.