Other People: a poem about social overload

I can’t be with others
in a noise-gang which smothers;
their shouting and rage
would fill up this page
with cursing and ranting
with wheezing and panting
with foul-mouthed bluster;
a brain-dead cluster
of anger and sport –
no words of comfort.

Don’t mind them alone,
on the end of a phone,
if they use the right tone,
if they need a good moan –
I’ll listen, be there
as if I’ve no care,
for I don’t care a jot
that I have a lot
of angst and despairing.
I don’t need their caring.
Fears are for sharing –
but not mine
not this time;

I’ll find my own space
my individual place,
to deal with my pain
time and again.
In my own special way
I’ll have the last say
with a life that is marred
and a body that’s scarred.

Published by Marilyn

Diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder after fifty years in the mental health system I decided to share my experiences and consider the impact my health has had on my well-being. Being creative is the mainstay of my life and it's how I express my deepest emotions. Photography, writing, and design challenge me and help keep me rooted in the present.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: