The spectrum
Not all spectrums are full of colour
Some just go from shit to horrible
A continuity of pain
Of your disgust (maybe?)
I don’t want to sanitize myself
Every single time
Monitor your responses and update my mathematical models
But I have to
Maybe that is why I hate my brain
For not being able to love like everyone else
Feel like everyone else
Be like everyone else
I feel like a bird born with deformed wings
Wanting to fly along the rainbow
But not
Because I fucking can’t
All the world is quicksand
And all things in it, sinking
Out of my grasp
Out of my mind
I am lightning McQueen trying to lift herself
I can feel the aerodynamic downforce
Pinning me down
Onto sorrow, numbness and want
I see the world in colour
But live it in greyscale
Being a part of the rainbow
Yet not at the same time
I live inside this tiny subset of life I call home
Void of going out on dates
Of sleepovers
A mason jar filled with dust
Pile on, woes
For with you I know there is no parting
Pile on, life
For you are all I have

Abigail Silversmith Irfan (she/they) is an autistic trans person, who is doing undergrad in physics, chemistry and math, loves dungeons and dragons, board games and listening to (and writing) poems.