In the morning, before it all: a wooden bench soaked and dripping in the middle, the rest bone-dry, like a ghost of water is sitting on it—
Until caffeine pills yellow and chalky, exhaustion impermeable: hyperactivity weaponized into false living, an artificial thrumming under my cheeks—
My team lead placates me by giving access to something I have desired for so long I learned to hate it to suppress my desire.
To accept is to eat drugged meat.
Point calls. Exhaustion impermeable — a youth takes it personally. He says I do not understand. I could voice his words at him before they are even said—
The auditorium, glove off, salad and intrusive thoughts about the doughnut eaten earlier because the problems still aren’t gone—
Exhaustion impermeable: my team lead reassuring and smiling when they need to ignore and point-call the youth who throws verbal abuse like stones.
I’m tired. This job is the most wonderful and I do not want life without it, but my team makes it the worst job of them all. She is the most neurotypical of all neurotypical people, and I suffer.