Broken

Mother, what is there to do,
My mind is broken my heart is bruised,
You didn't want me, because I wasn't the dream,
Unusual, broken, unforeseen.

I wasn't like others, things were hard on you,
I can't change me, this is me true,
I was strange, I'm not like the others,
I guess that is why you gave me my brothers

I wouldn't wear cute outfits, they made me itch
It'd be rough and scratchy, they never "fit",
I never liked basic toys that had one purpose,
Games books and art, held my focus.

Late up at night because my brain was alert,
I had to read until 3 to stop the hurt,
I resented you, when you forced touch,
I didn't like it one bit, it's far too much!

Our communication broke because you refused to listen,
I tried to tell you in my own language, an impossible mission,
People bullied me at school, I couldn't stay,
Thus I began to run away.

It was my undoing, that choice was my last,
The last I had in my broken past,
"you're a difficult child, Satan's minuon'

.
.. No mum, I'm not broken.. I..have autism...

I'm sorry