Writing from an Undiagnosed Aspie

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I opened up an old document today from when I was about 10 or 11 years old; I was trying to get it into GDocs so I could write more on it; it's where I keep all my poetry. Anyway, I found some interesting stuff from back then that really shows how it felt for me to not understand social norms; I thought I'd post it here and see what you think and if anybody's felt the same as this. It's unedited so expect grammar errors, strange nuances, etc.

real world

the jumble of books on the shelves
the smell
of musty paper, of dust in the air
of books
of people
I browse the shelves
searching
for just the right thing
to send me off
a stranger comes
my heart pounds
I try to look meek
tiny
want to shrink
want to throw my hands up
in the air
and yell
don't hurt me
adrenalin
a headrush
who is this guy
what is he looking for
does he want me to move
should I move
am I in his way
is he a killer
is he crazy
is he insane
I am the insane one
his footsteps carry him away
I stop looking small
stop masking myself
the adrenalin dies down
for god's sake
he's just a normal guy


the bus

I know my bus's smell
it's the smell of the kids
the smell of the driver
of the faux leather seats.
But it's also the smell
of forgotten
lost
destroyed
memories.
The smell of years past.
The lingering scent of generations
who rode this bus.
I'm on the bus for
a while. I talk with my friends.
I look out the window. I sleep
but sometimes
I just look at the bus.
I know my bus
the first-aid kit
the emergency exit
the sticker above the door
that says
drive carefully
the keys
the levers
the dashboard.

Then one day
the bus
was late.
The brick wall I was waiting on
dug into
my derrière.
Then finally
the bus came...
but it was wrong
fear flooded through me and left me
too many rivets
edges too sharp
seats different
stairs funky somehow.
A different driver
and a different smell
a smell of different memories
trapped in the bus
memories of generations
different generations
already passed
unfamiliar to me
my sense of upset
lasts until I get off at my stop
I hope this never happens again
please god
give me my familiar bus
never let it change
unless I change it
please god


Stop Sign

[I took out a part from the beginning. It should be noted that this was about a guy I was REALLY into at the time.]

There's a stop sign
that I see
every time
I almost
say it.

I want to hug you

Sometimes I almost
fling myself at you
when I am weak
when I need help
when I am going to cry

I want to loop my arms
around your neck
and hang from you
and hold you close
and never let you
leave me again

but I suffer
alone.

There's a stop sign
that stops me
from hugging you
when I'm cold
tired
beaten
lonely
and alone.

There's a stop sign.



Anyway, it's just something I thought you'd be interested in. The poetry's not great, but it just shows that I knew something was wrong even back then.

These days I find it hard to write poetry because I focus so much on the shape of the lines and making them follow a pattern that I can't focus on the words... I have a poem about that too xD

-Paefin

If you have that problem, maybe you could "write" it using a tape recorder.

Anyway, the poems are okay. I relate to the first one. Free verse isn't my thing. I like poems that rhyme. But other than that highly subjective thing, I don't have any complaints.