Some days, the words crowd

At the corners of my busy autist brain-

Before I can so much as call

Upon them, at times-

Jockeying for position,

Throwing themselves to the frontlines,

One upon another,

Practically jumping over the edges

In pursuit of being known.

And other times?

Well, they seem to sense I am 

Seeking after them in earnest then,

And so, in a secretive hush,

They flicker past like

Slivers of light

Slicing in and out of a

Silent forest-

Vague impressions only,

Elusive to be caught.

Frustrating both in turn…

But I am slowly finding 

Neither situation is really wrong

When I learn the art of 

Surrender’s song.

No…rather, they are opposite ends

Of one incredible mind

That both has so much to speak

And such a need to retreat inside…

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