Odd One Out

Odd One Out.

Being autistic and the one that’s the Odd Man Out is tough.
You asked for peace, but seeing others happy is tough.
Others don’t know.
How hard it is to approach the group of happy people.
When they are gathered around the table and you can’t place yourself there.
When they are all doing the work that you like to do and you can’t focus on what you know needs done.
Inside it hurts. To be the Odd One Out.

They don’t understand.
Why you say the things you do.
That you name the Garbage Hauler in the Voice you do.
Or are singing the chorus to that Foo Fighters song you have been singing the last two days since you found out your doctor is moving to the road that reminds you of that Foo Fighers song on the radio and you enjoying it.
Things that make me the Odd One Out.

They don’t understand.
That you wanted to do the things that they were doing.
But they are used to doing things the way they do and know bringing me in only will mix things up.
Yet, I have a hard time taking my mind off focusing how happy they are because I am lonely.
I am the Odd One Out.

Someday. I’ll get out into the world.
Meet people who get my scripting, echolalia, and all other things that make me who I am.
They’ll make a part of their story and make me feel like I deseve to be who I want to be.
I’ll have my own frends and won’t be the Odd One Out.

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