Invisible No More

my love affair with words

funny

It’s funny how these

words flow so

freely from

my pen

and write the things

I long to say

and write the things

I didn’t know

I wanted

to say

They break free

these feelings boiling

deep down inside of me

deep down

where I shove all

my pain

where I shove all

my rage

all my loneliness

all my desire

it bubbles up in

tiny poems

that spread across

the page

that fill notebooks

upon notebooks

it’s funny how these

words flow

so freely

from

my pen

when my words

get stuck in
my throat

when I try

to speak

and choke

me til

I bleed

it’s funny

how I can write

the words

that I  can

 never

 say

.

                                                                                                                             8/21/15

©Patti Keno

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Who I am. part 1

I have something different about me, but my difference is invisible.  You wouldn’t see it unless you know why I’m pulling my wrists or biting my fingers (Actually I’m pulling my jaw, but to you it probably looks like I’m biting all my fingers at once).

Wait, let me start this off by saying I have never been diagnosed with Asperger’s or any other Autism related disorder.  In fact when I brought it up with my (ex)therapist.  He laughed (at me? or because he doesn’t believe in Autism?) and basically guaranteed that I did not have Asperger’s, but what that man didn’t understand is I’ve had 39 years to learn to adapt to this world and hide my tics, my meltdowns, my obsessions and other quirks.

My nephew was diagnosed as PDD-NOS, but at first we thought it was Asperger’s and the more we researched Asperger’s syndrome the more I recognized the traits in myself, I saw in myself so many traits of an Aspie.  With this blog, I’m not trying to convince anyone that I have this condition, because honestly I don’t know if I do or not.  What I hope to accomplish is to give you a glimpse into the mind of someone who may (or may not) have Asperger’s Syndrome.

I was taught when I was very young that I needed to look people in their eyes when I talk to them.  I remember very specifically my mom sitting me on her lap and telling me to look her in the eyes.  (Of course she was trying to catch me in a lie at the time.  I frequently took the fall for my Brother and Sister when I was little.  They would pay me for it. “I’ll give you a dollar if you say you did it.”) I learned from that experience what was expected when talking to someone.

Most of the time I try to stare at people’s mouths, my sensory processing disorder (also never been diagnosed) makes it hard for me to understand what people are saying.  One of my friends explained it as I hear what people say then I have to translate it into Patti Language before I can understand it. Sometimes I have to repeat the sounds I heard in my head a dozen or so times before it gets translated. So if I look lost or bored I’m probably just lost in translation. 🙂   Reading peoples lips helps, plus it’s a good way to avoid eye contact in a somewhat socially acceptable way.  Once I was at a Halloween party and I wasn’t wearing my glasses and I realized I couldn’t hear what people across the room were saying to me when I put my glasses back on I heard them better.  That is when I realized I subconsciously read people’s lips.

Accents are very hard for me to process, two examples:  I was visiting Tennessee with my Aunt, Uncle and 2 cousins.  I had painted my nails purple awhile before the trip so as always (it seems) my polish was chipped and only on the bottom of my fingernails.  A woman looked at it and said “Did you mash your thumb?” with a very heavy southern accent.  I literally was at a loss.  I had no idea what the woman asked me, but she was waiting for an answer I just stood there staring at her until my uncle translated, “She wants to know if you hurt your thumb.” I just said “nail polish” and wiggled my fingers at her.  I was so embarrassed that I could not figure out what she said it just sounded like DIDYAMASHYATHUMB.

The other incident is somewhat funnier; mom and I laugh about it a lot.  My pediatrician was a lovely Thai woman (she actually saved my life when I was 3, but that’s a story for another time) who at the time had a pretty heavy accent, but I was used it because I knew her and most times I could understand her. This time was different; she used a word that I didn’t quite know yet.  She said “I need to get a urine specimen.”  I’d probably heard the words urine and specimen before, but it wasn’t something used in everyday conversation. So I said “What?” and she said “I need to get a urine specimen,” so I said “What?” and she repeated it. It probably happened 5 times before my mom finally yelled “GO PEE IN A CUP!” That was much less embarrassing than the DIDYAMASHYATHUMB incident, because we were all laughing about it. Now, I think of that every time I have to give a urine sample.

DIDYAMASHYATHUMB. If you look at that word and have trouble finding where all the spaces go, that’s how I hear.  I have to match word sounds with words I’ve heard before.  If I’m bored or tired I just nod and smile, sometimes it’s just too hard to translate what people say to me, sometimes it’s just not ever worth the effort.

If you’ve ever seen me singing along with the songs on the radio, I don’t actually sing the words (unless I know the song really well) I just sing the sounds. For example in Portishead’s Roads she sings “from this moment, how can it feel this” I know those words so I sing them, but until I wrote this blog I never knew that the next word is “wrong” I always just made the sound RA.  LOL How can it feel this RA.

Because I don’t always sing actual words I frequently sing instrumental solos too especially guitar solos.  My friend Carrie always gets a kick out of that.

 

stay tuned for part 2.

You can purchase my novel A Murder of One at:

http://www.amazon.com/Murder-One-Patti-Keno/dp/0692388338/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1437168287&sr=8-1&keywords=patti+Keno

AMOO_lg

and Stay tuned for my latest novel Shattered Souls coming soon!!!

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Muzzle

I guess
I must have
tripped
and fallen
through my
cheery gladness
it’s gone now
and the world
is back in darkness
I am lost
again
and I hate it
and I love it
all
in the same
lonesome
breath
it’s aching inside
and tearing out
my heart
I hate it
this endless pain
inside my chest
inside my throat
bringing me to my knees
taking away my limbo
and leaving me
alone in
this darkness
without a shred
of armor
to protect me
from this
onslaught
I guess
I must have
tripped
and fallen
back into
this hole
this aching despair
why am I so
damn clumsy

5/16/05

                                                                          ©Patti Keno

This poem and the last one were based on a dream that i had.  This one is named Muzzle because that is the name of the man I was dating in said dream. (my mind works in weird ways)

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tiny poems from my past

These poems are from 93-96

.

.

No one wants to touch me

Who would dare

To try and

Touch the girl

Who is not there

.

.

I kiss your lips

with cold

intentions

I kiss your lips

with sweet

remorse

I kiss your lips

and linger

softly

I kiss your lips

and long

for forgiveness

.

Here I am

Dressed in red

Aimed to please

Am I dead,

or just losing my memories

.

Not dead,

just slowly dying

eyes are red

from all this crying

.

all poems ©Patti Keno

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My self-made prison cell

this ache inside

for something new

it never fades

it never ebbs

it always stays

deep inside of my

heart

.

love

such a useless emotion

it only leads to pain

I’ve been burnt before

and nothing will

ever burn me again

 .

I push them away

SCARE them away

before they get too close

I can’t let them in

I can’t let them near

I don’t want them

hurting like I did

 .

I feign the search for

the ebon eyes that haunt

me in my dreams

but the loss of

self keeps me from reaching out

I’m too afraid of losing

the self I worked so hard to build

the self I worked so hard to reclaim

I can’t let them in

I can’t let them in

Even if it means that I can never get out

I never want to lose myself in someone else again

.

so I go

forever feigning interest

pain and jealousy

filling my very being

maybe it’s envy

not jealousy that I feel

a secret wish to be normal

to be more like them

in their perfect bliss

.

a hand and a sigh

lips meeting

touching

kissing

a hand and a sigh

they continue

and never notice my tears

too lost in their own desires

to ever notice me fading

slipping away

into another world

my imaginary world

where all my dreams come true

and there is always someone there

to hold me

always someone there

to love me

in a love beyond love

in a love beyond sex

in a love beyond this world

a love that only I can give myself

.

once again his ebon eyes

behold me and I cringe

in their wake

he knows that I am a coward

he knows that I’ve been weak

he smiles

and once again whispers out

his catch phrase:

“It’s not your time”

and he takes me in his arms once more

if I can’t be with him now

then I can at least enjoy him in my dreams

 .

because the loss of

self keeps me from reaching out

I’m too afraid of losing

the self I worked so hard to build

the self I worked so hard to reclaim

I can’t let them in

I can’t let them in

even if it means That I can never get out

 .

I can never get out

I will always be

on the inside looking

out

 .

.

                                                          4/24/01

©Patti Keno

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the smile

It started with

a smile

a quick hello

an innocence

shared

an electricity

crackling

in their

eyes

 .

It started with

a smile

a simple caress

an innocent

kiss

a tender

word

full of

meaning

.

it started

with a smile

and lived

and entire lifetime

in the span

of a minute

as her imagination

built an entire

lifetime

of love

based on that

one smile

.

.

                                                3/17/00

                                                ©Patti Keno

.

to “the Man I always drop things in front of”

 

 

 

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Sideshow

I belong in a circus, in the sideshow

“Step right up! See the blue haired girl! Silent Patti from Detroit!

She never speaks! The only one in existence!”

I belong in there, not out here with you

The shiest girl with the hottest man

It doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem fair.

I belong in the freak show, standing next

to the two-headed goat

“Step right up! See the purple haired girl! Silent Patti from Detroit!

She never speaks! The only one in existence!”

That’s how I feel

I shouldn’t be here with you

I shouldn’t be anywhere, but locked away

in a cage at the sideshow

at the freak show

Where only the creeps want to hit on me

I belong in there

because that’s where I belong

“Step right up! See the green haired girl! Silent Patti from Detroit!

She never speaks! The only one in existence!”

 .

 .

 .

                             8/17/00

                                ©Patti Keno

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heat

I wait here in this
heat
so silent so
unbearable
I wait and
I retract
I recoil
I step back
you stifle me
with your eyes
speechless
i lose everything
i worked
so hard
to gain
I try to contain
to elliviate
the ache
this silence
that echoes past
my refrain
and ends well into
my chorus
I wait
I retract
I dissolve
I disappear
waiting here
for you

5.17.01
Pik

©Patti Keno

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