Punk Writes

Graduation, Dissociation (a poem)

Graduation, Dissociation


Glassy eyes and

a plastic smile.

The pink lipstick I wore

for every occasion.


A dress from the

junior's department of Macy's,

never to be worn

again.


It was my high school graduation,

but I wasn't there.

I felt lost, anxious--

alone.


That funny feeling where

life coninues on around you,

floating through the motions;

mind in stasis.


It's the last time I saw

my best friends,

we didn't even take any pictures

together.


Fear of the unknown had

overtaken my life,

constant mental breakdowns;

undiagnosed autism shinning through.


Overwhelmed,

wanting to help everyone

all at once--

couldn't even help myself.


That desire still burns,

but the flames no longer

consume my flesh;

quiet embers smolder.


That was 10 years ago,

and for many I have missed it;

I accept now that friendships

cannot sustain in stasis.


People grow up and move away,

college, careers, and marriages;

you'll never guess who is gay,

people change.


18 to 28.

Bisexual, married, autistic--

the order of discovery.

It's okay to feel lost.


They didn't tell us then

the biggest lie of adulthood:

no one knows what we're doing,

but we're all lost together.

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