Autism is standing still while

Everyone runs for the cliff edge

And you want to know why

Before joining them

But the surge pushes you down

And they thunder across your back

And you’re bloody but not broken

Because the rage keeps you sane


Autism is always being chosen

To be

The Cheese

In Farmer in the Dell

The Cheese stands alone

In the middle of the circle

As baby classmates point and sing

And you cry

But the next year you don’t cry

You will never let them break you

At least they won’t know

You care


Autism is getting it wrong when a boy flirts

Confusion from what he means

Interpreted by his ego

Thinking you’re indifferent

To his oh-so-obvious charms

And he hates you


Autism is being nice to a boy

Who seems like a friend

But not realizing

His ego cannot allow someone like you

To be kind

i.e., flirt (must be, he reasons)

And he hates you

For showing interest in his

Oh-so-obvious charms


Yet autism is like everyone else

Loving friends and movies

Books and games

Dreaming of being asked

To the prom

And buying a dress

To transform the lightning and thunder

Into rainbows of love, peace and happiness


Autism is loving sex and drugs and rock and roll

But luckily learning that drugs can take you

Where you don’t want to go

Because you can’t come back

But some nights you think

Maybe that’s not bad

What’s to come back to?

Only thunder and lightning and rain


Autism is when married

Choosing a dysfunctional like you

Yet he becomes an adversary

Family and friends roll their eyes

And laugh when he reveals your secrets

Meant only for him

It’s not like you’re barking like a dog

Or flapping your hands

Everything looks “normal”

But there must be some type of invisible mark

That all can see

Except me


What do they see?

What did I do?

What did I say?


Answers? No, so

Although I’ve never been a head banger

I want to badly butt

My head against theirs

Make them see

I’m like them

I am!

But I don’t know what to say

My tongue gets in the way


Children come

One is finally labeled

“Somewhat autistic”

What does that mean?

No information

Never heard the word before

No idea I am

We’re all so different

But children raised

In the offbeat way

AKA, autistic

And their lives

Get drenched in different shades of rain

Thunder, lightning



What is Autism?


Autism is traffic jams

Oncoming headlights in

A foggy, dark night

Thunder drowning out your heartbeat

Automobile stereo’s bass line ripping through your brain


Autism is thunder in your soul

As rain pours from your eyes

And lightning jerks your strings


Autism is knowing you are safest locked alone

In your room

Where no one can hurt you

But the curse is

Like everyone else

You crave society…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)






  1. This is wonderful Clarissa you capture the true essence of autism…..a wonderful friend of mine once commented that we are all on the autism spectrum somewhere just some of us are further along than others…..though I do connect with a lot that you say…..

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Reblogged this on heather awen archives and commented:
    This is so accurate I cried. Cried. First (only?) poem that made me me in words. I’m very grateful. April 2nd is Autism Awareness Day – don’t believe the hype about who, how, what we are. The media, Autism Speaks, and BigPharma want you to believe we should not have been born. Haven’t we been abused ENOUGH? Don’t genocide my people, please, don’t genocide us.


    1. Thank you, Heather, for the reblog. I, too, feel upset about the hype and inaccurate media stories. We are all so varied, diverse, and I never even knew I am autistic until a few years ago. So much for labels…

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I just put it together last month! So I am really excited because for the first time I don’t feel alone or ashamed. The amount of shame I have carried about not being able to ” get it right” has been unbearable. The entire “how can someone so brilliant not know the last basic stuff ?” And that society is crippling for me. When a few things came together even though I kept asking doctors if I had Aspergers because I seems like I should have that diagnosis they always said I had really high empathy so that disqualified me. But when I read especially women who are autistic the empathy is very strong and the man I love it’s almost disabling for him . So I’m amazed that after decades of being ” weird” and not fitting into any box correctly there is this whole world of people who make sense . When I first saw some vlogs I was very anxious all day because I didn’t know how my brain got into their bodies – I just have never seen that before. How could there be others when I am the weird girl? Knowing that there are others and that there is eugenics trying to stop us from being born is really upsetting and frightening . But I never would have understood autism if I looked at the CDC description. It doesn’t match me or anyone I know with the diagnosis. It’s like they’re just looking at something they don’t understand and making bizarre hypothesis when they can actually just ask . It’s so strange to have outsiders write about who we are. The whole slogan for the disability rights movement is ” nothing about us without us.” If we are the ones affected then we are the ones who should be making the decisions . There’s no greater expert than us. We know what we need and we don’t need some Wanabee savior coming in and rescuing us based on their own idea of what is best for us. Someone said something and I cannot remember who it was but it went like this ” once I was a liberal and I wanted everyone to have what I had. When I became a radical I wanted everyone to have what they wanted to have. ” and that I think should be tattooed on the arm of every social worker, educator , Dr. etc.

        By the way I have had practically every misdiagnoses psychologically and physically possible and it’s amazing how the label changes how I’m treated by doctors and others and how I like a good student would study the diagnosis and tell them the correct answers . But after a little while and when I was taking off all of the debilitating psychiatric drugs that only harm to my body and mind and did nothing positive – I made a really stupid mistake marrying someone because of those pills and also had a suicide attempt from them – I started really realizing how Cartesian thinking really does suck. Especially being a visual thinker who thinks in mandalas. When something is separated, studied out of context and put into a bottle and given a label very few people ever look inside the bottle. So labels suck. And yet at the same time it’s really great when you can read about yourself and learn more and feel better about it . But when people who don’t have the label try to say who does and they have all of the stereotypes , then labels really are a problem. I wish there was a way to not make things pathology but with BDSM, LOL. I’m using dictation, Lyme disease and babesiosis /malaria really wiped out my body , I meant to say with with the DSM it has been making everything a pathology including a two-year-old. I have yet to ever see a written description of what mental health means. They don’t know. And that is what is so strange more than anything else. I agree with Krishnamurte (name spelled wrong) that it is no measure of sanity to be well in a sick world. However he put it. I’ve always firmly believe that so I never really been strange was bad except it just made living really painful . But I couldn’t imagine selling my soul which is what it seems like NeuroTypicals often do. There is so much fake meaninglessness and the groupthink will mean that witnesses will change their stories and truth doesn’t really matter as much as collective agreement of reality – how can you be authentic and paying attention to the world and live like that? I don’t fathom it and I find it really scary dangerous .

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh, yeah, I like your quote about “Once I was a liberal…” I often think of the sixties quote that some liberals were “so far left that they were right” (like SDS and all those groups that began to use violence). Anyway, I’m bewildered about the lack of empathy we supposedly have! My entire life has been to help others when possible. Like non-autistic people, some are sociopaths and some are not. Why do they make sweeping generalizations about us? And yes, as you say, why not ASK US??? The world, yes, scary. My defining moment came when I read “African Genesis” and it was first about birds (oh, those cute little things) and then about the prehistoric skeletons with crushed skulls from being bashed in the head. A history of violence. I don’t feel that humanity will ever be completely civilized although many of us try very hard. I do feel that there are a lot of people out there who would kill others if they could get away with it. Music soothes and that’s what I try to do when I’m obsessing. No sense thinking of it (I’m SOOOOOOO into denial). Anyway, thanks so much for liking my poem and understanding exactly what I mean!


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