Another face [autistic poetry]

(I wrote this in the summer of 1995, while listening to the soothing contemporary sounds of Canadian artist Mae More; she had just released her “Dragonflies” album and I was enamored at first listen, particularly the song “Watermark” (audio-only via MySpace, or another (better) audio-only source; just click on “listen” in the right column), which occurred when I was walking with my sister through a Calgarian mall, of all places.  Right there, amongst the walkways of Chinook Centre, came the sketches of what would develop into the following…PS: I was 17 then)

Another place, another time
Another face I can call mine
Another life I leave behind
Another future I hope to find
If I lose myself in yesterday
There’s no hope for change
I’ll keep killing off todays
Remaining out of range
Maybe someone will find me and care enough
To bring me back to reality and
Surround me with love

I don’t think I can live through
Another face, but if I
Believe long enough, it’ll happen anyway, I
Think there’s a place
Frozen in time
Every time I change I die
I live I leave behind
So much I’m selves apart
I won’t stick myself
I’m letting go

No more endless memories
No more living in what was
It becomes a chronic virus
See it for what it is and what it does

If I live through another face, I
Don’t know if I’ll still know you
I’ve changed in so many ways, and
There’s so much I want to tell you
But I can’t seem to find the words
You know how it goes
I don’t know if I can live through
Another life like this where
I put myself through so much and
I don’t even care; I’m
Too wrapped up in my starry ever-wonder mind
To capture an experience–the beauty of life

(July 1995)

(Spot the Aspie/autistic teenaged girl, right?  “Another face” referred then–and still refers now–to creating a new persona, and I must have had an inkling, at least on some level, even back then, how much energy it did and what I had to sacrifice in order to do that.  But hopefully readers can detect the glimmer of hope and excitement at the possibilities that await such a foundational transformation.)   🙂


(Image Credit: Carne Griffiths)



    1. Thank you dear! Yeah it was definitely bittersweetness back then. You’re spot-on, fueled by sadness and pain 💜. I looked forward to reinventing myself, but I didn’t like the reasons for having to do it. I wanted to see who I could become and how believably I could pull it off, but the fact that I felt I had to do it at all was in itself the sign of a pretty pathological society 🌺🌺


      1. I think the biology.behind what we’ve evolved into is miraculous, the goals we’ve reached as a species and structures we’ve built etc impressive, vast, beautiful…..but we really can be dicks.
        For a species of creature so capable of beauty and full if imagination we really can be ugly in our thinking and blinkered in our dreams…..and I’m sorry that many of our colleagues, friends, loved ones are often left behind, isolated, forgotten or excluded as a consequence.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Wow. A lot of depth there, dear one. I love reading your perspective from those days. 😘It’s fascinating. Makes me wish I had saved my earlier work ( I had sheets and sheets of poetry in my teens and twenties, but a tendency to get disgusted with myself and periodically throw them away. 🙄)

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Awww 😘💐💞. I love your work! It’s stunning 😘🌺. Everything happens for a reason, though, my lovely 💖. Maybe it was therapeutic to let it go? That inner critic is mouthy sometimes, isn’t it? 😊💜💙

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Aww, thank you! 😊Hmm, I never of it that way! Perhaps it was therapeutic in a sense of ridding myself of some hard stuff in my life. Those were some really rough times I’m grateful to have behind me. ☺

        Liked by 1 person

        1. You’re so welcome, dear one! Ugh, yes, amen to being relieved to be done with tough times! So happy that your creativity has been a self-therapy of sorts. I really do believe there’s something to that! Probably better than a mediocre therapist, even! 🙂 ❤ ❤ ❤

          Liked by 1 person

  2. I can really relate to this. My family moved on an average of every 2 years when I was a kid, and every time I felt like I had to reinvent myself. Even in adulthood, I feel that pressure, but where it was once an opportunity, now it feels exhausting.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. It’s interesting because when I read this I read it completely different than how I believe you meant it to be for yourself, and how others interpreted it after reading these comments. It’s amazing how we can all have different perspectives on ones writing, seeing it through our own eyes. Amazing work as always. Nothing but love.

    Liked by 3 people

      1. I can’t really put it in words how I read it the first time, but if I could I would love to share. But now that I’m reading it over again, how I read it before doesn’t seem to be making as much sense now. 😛 lol

        Liked by 1 person

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