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I’ve neglected this blog, I know. Don’t even talk to me about my Youtube. These are the dead days, the days between Christmas and when the world starts to turn again, and with them comes the lethargy, the depression, all the things you really don’t want to talk about.

2019 was amazing for so many reasons, I can’t begin to list them, but obviously achieving a lifelong goal was amongst them – publishing How To Be Autistic has changed my life beyond measure, and I’m so immensely proud of creating something that people seem to enjoy. I’ve received more messages than I’d like to count, so much kindness, so much sadness, so many people who know what it feels like, but there’s hope there too, and that’s what I wanted more than anything else – hope and promise of a better tomorrow.

It still hasn’t sunk in, I hope you realise. I don’t think it ever really will. I don’t even remember being the person who wrote How To Be Autistic in a frenzy after winning the art award. I just know that somehow I did, and that that means somewhere there’s a spark in me that means I can do it again, somehow, somehow.

I have so many plans, so many things I want to share with you. I feel like for such a long time my world was a single room, this tiny box of four walls and the same views outside the window, but now it’s bigger, expanding just as the universe expands, and god, we are starstuff.

There’s so much potential, the world is fizzing with it. It’s a very weird thing to realise, that maybe the future holds something beyond the monotony, the every day, every goddamn day being exactly the same. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in years. I feel like I’ve woken up (and yet I’m still exhausted!).

I have plans for a new video, and I’m still trying to get my next book published. A goal I’ve made for myself is to publish something, anything, really. I’d also like to write something new, something substantial, 50k range. It takes an awful lot out of me to do so, but having written is such a beautiful feeling that it’s worth the torment of it all.

I feel so lucky that there are things I can’t even tell you about yet that are coming, and that might be coming. My world is straining at the seams, getting bigger still!

And I find myself appreciating my family now more than ever, watching my sister’s children grow and become proper little humans, feeling so incredibly old as they do so. They anchor me to this place, and in doing so, they keep me safe, even on the darkest days.

I owe so much to so many people, and I hope I can repay that. I don’t believe in karma, not really, but I believe in kindness and the power of it, so.

Here’s to a kinder 2020.

Poe xx

Poetry

I was standing at the bottom of the beacon,
Phone in my hand, fingers frozen to the bone,
And the sky was clouded, bitter and cruel,
Like sunlight had forgotten how to exist,
Just for a little while, just for a bit.

I had cast those delicate dayglow rays aside,
Scattered the bones of them amongst the graves,
Because the thing about suns is that they burn up,
Inevitably, impossibly, and then –
They burn you up with them, leaving only a shadow,
Something once there, now gone, a husk of something good.

I was standing at the bottom of the beacon,
Phone in my hand, cheeks blushed red from cold,
And maybe the sky was clear, maybe the grey was all there was,
Like sunlight was something I’d just imagined,
Like I’d made you up inside my head.

I had built lampposts in empty cemeteries,
And I had spewed words in eulogy for a passing I’d never witnessed,
And I think together we’d burnt up our sun,
This fragile thing that existed in one dimension only,
If you look at it too closely it’ll blind you,
Leaving you forever in the dark.

I was standing at the bottom of the beacon,
Phone in my hand, the heels of my feet aching from walking,
And I realised I didn’t love you the way I thought I did,
And that maybe I never had,
And that maybe the sunlight was reflected,
And that maybe I had been the moon,
Floating in space waiting for you to warm me,
When really, that’s not what I wanted at all –
Unless it was.

Our shadows had overlapped once, you realise,
And perhaps that had meant something more than it should have,
And that’s okay,
Because even ships in the night find comfort in the silent passing of foggy light,
So when I tell you I was standing at the bottom of the beacon,
My hood pulled up and my knuckles cracked,
I’m just telling you about a moment when I realised,
That it’s really easy to fall when you’re apart,
And goddamn,
It’s like being smothered when you realise,
You’ve made up a life, made up a soul,
And as close as the hidden sun is to me,
Is as close as I want you now,
And I’m sorry for that,
For you, and for myself,
Because nothing hurts more,
Than actually seeing somebody for the first time.