As the door hinged shut
And the brakes hissed in release
I turned to a road that seemed to stretch on infinitely
Tears welled up as I trudged down the way
Each door appeared at first the same
I stopped to look at each house
Passing the ranches
But observing each double-decker with doubt
This one has a window box
These two have a fence around them
My house is across from the cul-de-sac
Wailing and walking and looking for clues
Finally, I came upon it
The car my parents drove around
This must be the house I live in
Angry noise
It isn't my fault
I couldn't find my way
K. B. Silver
~*~
April is not only National Poetry Month but also
Autism Acceptance Month.
This poem is about getting lost. I was and am still always getting lost, it is a common trait of autistic people, and a real danger for us. I rely heavily on my GPS, and all my information is programmed on my phone. I can have difficulties remembering my address when in a stressful environment, and if I need to take a taxi, I might need to read it off.
The memory I wrote from was getting off the bus in second grade. My mother knew I was autistic, but was embarrassed by that diagnosis, and so I have spent my entire life lost and confused. I was thirty-three when my diagnosis "came out," it's been a rough three and a half years finding myself.
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.




Comments (3)
Nice
🫂hugs
Good