On Autistic Levels

Sometimes,

They try to box us,

In levels,

Like floors in a building.

As if a label,

Can capture,

The whole essence of a soul.

One day,

You're on level one,

Whispering to the moon,

About your quiet brilliance.

The next day,

The world's noise is too loud,

You're now on level three,

Screaming for silence.

How can a number,

Decide the depth,

Of your ocean,

On any given day?

One moment's meltdown,

Is another's breakthrough,

Yet they judge,

Our tides,

Like they've never,

Seen the sea storm. 

Levels,

They say,

As if we're just steps,

On a ladder.

But we're the entire spectrum,

Dancing in the rain.

Don't let them level you down,

To just a number.

We're more,

We're infinite.