The Autistic Journal

Autism is always a hard pill to swallow, Like planting a bullet on the skull Drifted from life's wonders As if I've slipped away. Stigmatized like a cockroach And knocked back from footy. With my body soiled and discoloured Embarrassed and humiliated on the face. Mama asked me about school Hoping it was okay, Yet its darkness doesn't fade away Like living in the bull pit of Sam Hill. Then I get angry and fond of the bottle Having nothing but doubt and shame, As if suicide is a way out of the pain And lifting the pressure off my chest.