Missing Sadly (Draft 0)

Missing Sadly (Draft 0 )

You ask me why I haven’t called
to break the fantasy and
show myself as
the nothing I am

I have my words that sometimes
make me seem poetic and heroic.

Dear, my pen is not really
mightier than the sword of the day.

I don’t know how to parry the blows, and
I will get buried in snow I fear in this
perhaps my last winter.

You don’t have to wait for me, ’cause
I want you to be loved tomorrow
if I can’t make it today

I’m climbing the tree, and
I hope I can fly; can I
borrow your feathers…

I’m dipping your plumes in ink,
and writing as fast as I can.

If you can fly,
I would want you to go, but
I would miss you, it’s just that

you don’t know what a speck of ink I am,
and how much I don’t know how to be bigger,
don’t know how to do anything.

I’m trying to finish my poem-novel, because
if I don’t make millions or a little less, I’m dead.

I don’t know how to do anything at all.

Time is really running out for me.

I can’t be the
scientist I always wanted to be
because I’m autistic. And

probably I can’t be the novelist or poet either
because English was my worst subject in school.

I’m running as fast as I can, but
I keep tripping and falling and
I don’t know if I ever want to get up again.

Sometimes I just want to lie in the ditch
and hope a tree falls on me.

I don’t know how to climb a tree,
don’t know how to reach the sky.

I used to have a plan, but it was silly —

they killed me in college when
they made me fail and not be human anymore, and

there was nobody at all down any hallowed hall:
no counselor, no teacher, no friend, no book.

There’s been nothing, except the kindness of you because

I know there’s something you understand, but
there’s so little I can promise because I have nothing.

Go if you must go,
but don’t go too far.

Maybe somehow
I could learn to climb.

Someday if I find you
in the highest branch of the tree,
I could be quirky and you could be chirpy

Maybe there’s hope for silliness.

— Douglas Gilbert

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One thought on “Missing Sadly (Draft 0)

  1. Wouldn’t it be better if I were with you if you tripped and fell? I’d help you get back up, kiss your wounds and help you heal, give you strength to try again because I’ve loved you for who you are, not for what you have or will have. I can’t believe you would call yourself ‘nothing’. Could ‘nothing’ occupy my heart the way you do? (sigh)

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