Dry Heat

Jordan Seaver

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Autism

 

They say you’re off in the head

An average mind with a series of cracks,

A gear in a clock which turns, runs

But spirals in an opposed direction.

 

I had wanted a sister for so long

But could I really call you that?

What with your unfamiliar face

And harsh touch unbefitting of a friend;

Your empty, confused eyes

And disconnect with the world.

 

What with all that time you spent

Locked in a hospital box away from us,

Not living in the house in which our family resides

but instead off on your own, festering in far off regions,

in which anyone was much too far away to reach you.

 

I know it’s not your fault that your puzzle pieces

Are just slightly too warped to really meld.

But do you blame me for wishing

that this was a little different?

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