An Armour-plated Heart…

A child will learn from what is shown, from what is done and said,
And take as truth the heavy lessons forced into their head. 
I saw a mother trapped in fear, a father full of rage,
And learnt that love was nothing more than wire around a cage. 
It spoke with fists, it bargained hard, it apologised in vein,
A toxic trap designed to yield a lifetime full of pain. 
Before my mind was fully shaped, it threw the deadbolt tight,
No love would ever take a root, or ever see the light. 

I grew up needing neither tenderness nor grace,
And viewed the people in my world as items in a space. 
I saw a friend the way a spider looks upon a fly,
A target to be caught and drained before I passed them by. 
I did not want a closeness, no need for bonds at all,
I watched the people moving by like pictures on a wall. 
I’d catch their voice, copy their quirks and mirror how they smile,
And study every habit till it ceased to be worthwhile. 

I’d turn myself into their form, extract what I could use,
A systematic process where I would pick and choose. 
And once I had acquired their style, their manner and their look, 
I simply went off on my way with everything I took. 
I discarded them without a thought, no lingering regret,
No grief or pity left behind, no trace of being upset. 
People were tools to serve a purpose, not ever as a friend,
No desire for a relationship, no reason to pretend. 

I never wanted romance, it’s meaningless to me,
No marriage in my plans, no babies meant to be. 
So when a child was on the way, I knew the bitter score,
No sudden spark of magic waited at that iron door. 
My son was born into a room where no mothers warmth awaited,
No instinct tied, no love in sight, no attachment ever created. 
You cannot manufacture what wasn’t formed inside,
A spectator to my own life, nowhere left to hide. 

Yet as the static faded out, his 
differences stood clear:
The stillness in his unseeing eyes, the way he held his fear. 
The terror of a sudden sound, the walls he raised around,
The strict, unforgiving rules where safety could be found. 
He was diagnosed with autism, as well as being blind. 
He needed order in his world, exactly as assigned. 
And in his need for strict routine, his quiet gentle soul,
I saw myself reflected, my need for full control. 

Where my OCD and his autism met, a solid bridge was grown,
The very first connection that I had ever really known. 
I am unsure if what I feel is love the way they claim,
Or just the recognition that our minds are built the same. 
It doesn’t matter what it’s named, or how the world defines,
It is the single light that pierced through my rigid lines. 

You look at me and think my life is empty, dark and grey,
With no one there to hold my hand or guide me on my way. 
But you do not miss the things you’ve never seen or felt,
I live content inside the frame the early hand had dealt. 
No jealousy ever touches me, no trap can pull me in,
No person holds the leverage to wear my spirit thin. 
I am unbroken by the storms that tear the weak apart,
At peace within my fortress, with an armour-plated heart. 

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