#blissblight

[ickywritespoetry]

I am autistic.

I see warmth from a distance.

I suffer from a subtle separation.

I hate it.

I do not want to be alone.

This is not some coping mechanism.

This is not some hoping mechanism.

This is a subtle schism between myself and others.

It hurts.

I spend a lot of time dissecting human interaction.

I can interact better then.

I cannot spend much time having it myself.

It is repelled by my self.

There is no disdain in distance.

There is quiet and unremarkable pain.

You can never see it.

You can never feel it.

It is still there.

There is a cold weightless stillness.

There is some connection there.

There is a longing for more.

This is not caused by distance.

This is not caused by fear.

It existed since my childhood.

It existed for as long as I could.

It hurts.

-Icky

[ickywritespoetry]

For Blissblight.

[ickywritespoetry]

I sit at an empty dinner table.

I sit alone.

I see her there.

I hear her there.

I see a smile on her face.

I see my reflection in her eyes.

I smell that ash that she carries on her.

I see those gentle discolorations that her burns have left.

I see her rustled hair over her proud eyes.

I see her anticipating my reaction to every bite.

I taste her familiar cooking with every bite.

I hear her gentle giggle as I stare into space.

I know her soul echos in this place even in her absence.

I miss her.

I cry.

-Icky🤍

[ickywritespoetry]

“I need to start living.”

You say this every day.

You want your life to liftoff suddenly.

You can never bring yourself to do it though.

You feel trapped in that routine.

You feel like you might never escape.

You feel alone in a way you hate.

Your heart still beats though.

Blood rushes through your veins.

Your lungs still breathe though.

Air fuels that lifegiving fire in your cells.

Your brain still ticks too.

Your bones are still wet.

You are still alive.

Sudden changes are hard though.

Take your time with this.

Make a habit.

Stick with it.

Does that seem ok?

I hope it does.

I hope it helps.

-Icky🤍

[ickywritespoetry]

Yucky! always seems to push herself.

She cooks almost constantly.

She pushes herself on the regular.

She is always doing something.

I am jealous.

I lack such passion.

-Icky🤍

[ickywritespoetry]

Yucky! is always covered in ashes.

It is an irritant.

I just got the kitchen clean.

Does she need to track them in?

I oppose her going out at all.

It is a good way to get ascended.

I prefer her burning things out there to in here.

A house fire would be a problem.

-Icky🤍

[ickywritespoetry]

Yucky! is an absolute prick.

She decided to borrow my bleaching touch today.

Kept rusting screws by holding them to me.

She claimed it was because she liked my reactions.

I know better.

I do not know what she has planned.

I am annoyed already though.

-Icky🤍

I found out what she had planned.

She made an incendiary with it.

She is a reckless chemist.

I suppose she lived though.

Molten iron makes wonderful fire.

I just wish my sister was not a liar.

One more burning building turned to a pyre.

-Icky🤍

[ickywritespoetry]

A cold blistering silence.

It fills every inch of the world.

It is normal.

It is painful.

It is Bliss.

I want it to end.

It is torment.

I want to disengage.

I want to drown in silence.

I know I cannot.

I need to protect my sister.

I need to protect my mirror.

It is a quiet morning.

Exactly as you would expect.

I woke up in pain.

My head is pounding.

My room is spinning.

I miss my sleep.

I vomit.

-Icky🤍