By Nancy Omorojor:
My autistic child
Mama worries that my mates have left me
She never says it, she just smiles it to me
The doctors and teachers call me special
I’m not sure special is what I am,
But if special is screaming loudly when a stranger comes in…
(I don’t like unknown faces)
Or flickering with the lights switches…
(I like the sensation)
Or slow in speeches…
(I have the words in my head, they do not just make their way out)….
Then I will take it,
Maybe I’m special.
I don’t think special is a bad word,
Mama seems happy when she says it,
I’m happy to be special
I have learned that others who are not special are called neurotypical
I don’t like that one,
The doctor calls them NT sometimes,
I think he means empty.
Empty is most fitting,
I will call them empty, they are not like me.
They don’t know what I observe in my quiet space,
I memorised the electrical patterning of our home while I sit in my quiet.
I have studied on how things fit into place.
I do not like external sounds because I have enough internal sounds In me.
The non special people don’t have this
Thus they are empty.
I also think they are empty because even though I’m quiet, I still take all the space,
May be not literally but I do take space…
Mama gives me all the attention
She worries more about me
I wonder if she still has any more worry left in her to give my non special sister
Poor thing, she has to be empty.
I don’t feel sorry her…
I usually don’t feel sorry for people.
Special has not much empathy in them
Well I only wish I can tell mama to stop fussing over me.
If I am special,
I think empty needs all the worry.
