Hi Thinking out loud here :)
This poem, I hope shares some light that not everyone is the same, that we all think differently, and all act and react to things in our own way. It might be clear what it is about, I have purposely not written any kind of ‘medical/society labels’ solely for the fact that we don’t need them to know what the difference or the uniqueness is. I know some people like to know the labels, but I sometimes think it can be so blatantly apparent without the need of saying what it so obviously is, that could just be me and how I think or how I’ve been brought up. I did the same in a previous poem (A little bit different), I hope to make this a small series over the next few weeks/ months. They will all be along the same lines, but each poem will show different personalities without needing to say the specific word of what it’s about. This is my way of showing everyone is different regardless of what labels/diagnoses we are given.
A little bit unique
By Freya Anastasia Hatfield
It’s loud in here,
It’s hard to think.
This brain always on overdrive,
A constant noise,
A constant hum.
These eyes taking in every little detail,
These ears hearing every little sound,
This mouth makes noises that no one understands,
sounds that form words, a hidden language,
stop and listen, it just takes a little bit of time to understand
This happens several times a day, it feels nice.
This is being unique,
This is being your own kind of beautiful.
This is not being like everyone else,
This is being your own normal.
This is being unique.
It can be hard to focus,
It can be hard to listen,
It can be hard to know what’s going on,
When so much is happening.
It can be hard to keep eye contact,
It can be hard to talk, repeating words and sentences.
It can be hard to be in a social situation.
It can be hard to touch some things, hands turn into a fist,
other things feel nice to touch, hands slowly reaching the object,
the sensation is pleasant, each hand is flat.
This happens several times a day, it feels nice.
This is being unique,
This is being your own kind of beautiful.
This is not being like everyone else,
This is being your own normal.
This is being unique.
There is an object, it is beautiful
It is fascinating,
Every little detail on it stands out
Every line, curve, colour has its own place
Every angle is different ever so slightly.
Eyes become overwhelmed, by its elegance
Emotions start to build, uncontrollable,
Everything bubbling into one big scream of excitement.
Spinning, jumping, arms are flapping,
This is excitement, this is joy.
This happens several times a day, it feels nice.
This is life being unique, showing its beauty, in its purest form
This is being unique.
