I cross the threshold and throw my mask to the ground
Discarded like a forgotten item of clothing, a crumpled sock
kicked out of sight until needed once more
to cover up what should not be bare.
These walls are not ashamed of me
They have seen me cry, rage, laugh with joy.
They have held me up as my world fell down.
They have absorbed the anger of my fists
trapped in meltdown with no words
only actions.
They give me cool reflection and warm embrace
My safety, my shelter, my fortress
Away from the everyday onslaught of Neurotypical life
Where Autistic folk fall through unseen cracks
Drowning in bright sunlight, suffocated by sound
Until I cross the threshold and take off my mask
Where I revel in my authenticity.
Home.
About the Creator
Kyra Chambers
Autistic (PDA) & Neurodivergent writer.
Vocal Plus Fiction Awards Finalist.
Find my full article list at The Chambers Chronicles
Tips/Subs appreciated but never expected.
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