Shrouded smoke

Clouded hopes

Don’t know

Which way

To go

Same songs on repeat

Social difficulties:

Why y’all think me a monster?

I’m just tryna live.

Not my fault I was born this way.

That my brain works so differently

Than the rest of use.

I’m just tryna get through this life.

Be made whole

On Judgment Day.

At least I hope.

I hope.

Clinging to hope.

Like I cling.

To Allah’s Rope.

But I ain’t been reading lately.

My verses laid up collecting dust.

The Holy Qur’an.

Lays untouched.

Inside, I feel shame.


Outside, my expression is the same.


But it will always be the same.

I am autistic. 

My face doesn’t do expression.

I raise my eyebrows.

As if to convey something.

Raise my voice.

Dramatically.

As if to inflect emotion.

Yet, inside, I am a roil.

Flooded.

Outside it looks calm.

Inside I feel hurt.

Harmed.

Nobody knows.

What it’s like.

To be autistic.

Unless they’re autistic.

You’re okay Said.

You need another getaway.

A quick trip.

Middle of nowhere.

I know it hurts young bro.

I know this.


And I know you know.

You’ll be straight.

Allah is Eternal.

Pain is temporary.

Even tho.

Your life seems.

To be one wave.

Of Painful Emotions.

After another.

Just keep plotting.

Keep praying.

Keep playing.

You’ll be straight.

Allah loves you.

As do I.

As do I.

As do I.

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