#dewey does

yeah, you, chucklenuts! over here.

i’m arc! or dewey! i’m 21, i lucked out and got comorbid autism & adhd B). i’m a fat butch lesbian and oh god do i write stuff. mostly poems atm. check em out.

or don’t. i’m not ur dad.

isn’t it just so goddamn hard to know yourself?

late in the night,

you’re finally alone,

you hug you legs to your naked chest,

only ever asking why in a whisper.

you can’t let anyone know just how little you know.

you can’t.

you can’t.

you can’t.

— an uncertain voice seems a weak one.

it is cold,

it is leaden,

it is empty.

(something was stolen from you.)

you need to cry.

to let it out.

but,

you can't.

you grieve yet you feel nothing.

(something was stolen from you.)

you're fucking heartbroken from every angle,

your fingernails are bitten and bloody,

you pick your skin red,

red,

red,

raw,

and your teeth begin to fall out, no longer could they bear to gnash.

(something was stolen from you.)

(darling, don't worry, it's fine. you know i run hot anyways).

when i'd bought it,

i hadn't even known,

it was always meant to be yours.

            — we will both be warm.

the clouds on my back are cold and wet,

the wind rushes through my ears,

angry that i would dare fall against it,

and the ocean below is dark.

I did not trip and fall on my own hubris.

My wings did not burn scorching wax down my body.

I made it,

I flew to heights unimaginable.

And I tore the damn wings from my own back.

When my body hits the water,

when all I have are my own my broken bones,

and my lungs, heavy with water,

I will know,

it was not hubris which killed me.

No,

it was the terror of never being greater than this.

That this will be the greatest feat I will ever accomplish.

Fleeing from an old man with a big maze.

One day,

I will return to Crete,

I will tell Daedalus,

I will tell him:

The frigid open water in which I died brought more comfort than ‘freedom’--

Ever could.

My voice it seems

(though I’m not sure, I haven’t heard it in years),

It echoes through the night sky,

And across the quiet meadow.

— These thoughts are far too heavy to bear alone.