An autistic brain I can find much to celebrate in. EDS? Not so much. But, still, somehow, we find strength and brightness to push forward in. My hands were hurting like hell, but I wanted to cover the whole page with color…

Feels like every day

Another thing I could do

Falls away…

Pain rises up

With a wicked grin

And seeks to master me.

Hands ache.

Shoulders shake.

Limbs and lungs

Seem every moment ready

To give way and break,

Along with my weary heart,

As the person I was,

Inadequate as she always appeared,

Begins to further shrink,

As  I become lesser physically even than I feared…

But, yet, I must press on to conquer,

If not the pain,

Then, perhaps, a way to seize

Joy yet inside my brain.

I could sit by and curse the Creator’s prerogative.

And I do let sadness in, but to rise up from it?

Imperative.

In autists’ unique and varied shades

I will determinedly color the night

And in this, I will brave beyond the black

And bathe in the light…

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