United States

I am a Genderfluid person that is on the autism spectrum. I normally have a very Harsh and Indifferent view of the world that may be shown in some of the prompts I write. I write when I am in pain, unfeeling, or when I have a slight view of a memory.

Message to Readers

These were some thoughts inside of my head turmoiling around. Please I wish upon you to write about what you feel like sometimes. What, even through all of that, makes you a writer or an author. Please share them with me. Please tell me how you feel, if you feel the same way or different, about my work.


March 18, 2019


Sometimes I wish to save the sky
Not for the people that lie underneath but for simply the sky and the land
Of ridding the world of what harms it and simply letting it be
Of ridding myself from this world

Sometimes I long for the stars
Of each one to their own uniqueness
Even as tears prick in my eyes from the closest and so dearly familiar star
I long to be up higher within the grasp of the stars and become one of them

Sometimes I am a prince
Gallantly moving along to find my princess
To claim her as mine as would be my right
To know my path of adventure even within the safety of royalty

Sometimes I am a princess
Longing for my lover to come for me as was planned
For the surprise of seeing them crest the hill to my tower
Knowing to give up power to another is what is expected of me and I am just as willing to do so

Sometimes I am old
With nothing left for me
No one of thing
Forgotten as I have lost the last of my naivety
No future as I have used it all up

Sometimes I am young
With my whole life in front of me
Not knowing a single truth about the world or a care for it
Simply with my own goals and promises so sacred

Sometimes I wish to save the sky...

Sometimes I long for the stars...

Sometimes I am a prince...

Sometimes I am a princess...

Sometimes I am old...

Sometimes I am young...

Sometimes I am depressed...

Sometimes I am overly emotional...

Sometimes i am apathetic...

Sometimes I am a girl...

Sometimes I am a boy...

Sometimes I am not even me...

But as the ideas turmoil through my head constantly, robbing me of sleep within every waking moment. As the words continue to dance before my eyes. As the screams of pain and the laughter of children floats around my ears. As my hands are covered in ink that spreads out upon to pages.




                                                                                        W R I T E R


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  • March 18, 2019 - 3:01pm (Now Viewing)

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