J. B. Stone
Maybe One Day We Will Be Lions
i
when I say I have depression
I mean my sky is a pale horse,
winter white
when the rest of
the world around me
can see a bright, crystal summer blue
ii
when I say I have anxiety
I mean my mind—
—I mean my heart
—wait—I mean my tongue
tastes of locust swarms
rather than butterfly colonies
iii
when I say I have ADHD
I mean my mind works like a racer
without a pit-crew
just a manic pilot navigating a lapping speedway,
trying to be ahead,
but
ends
up
breaking
down
iv
when I say I have autism
I mean that my being
is not meant to be a puzzle piece
paraded as someone else’s moment of zen
v
when they say I am a puddle
know that one day I shall become an ocean
formed by the waters that tried to drown me,
but I rise still floating, far from sinking
vi
when they say I am a flowerbed
wait until I bloom into a forest
that seeks to be a space for the broken,
from places that would rather see them dead
vii
when they say that I am a pebble
just watch me become a mountain
composed of all of moments
that made me stand
when I say I have depression
I mean my sky is a pale horse,
winter white
when the rest of
the world around me
can see a bright, crystal summer blue
ii
when I say I have anxiety
I mean my mind—
—I mean my heart
—wait—I mean my tongue
tastes of locust swarms
rather than butterfly colonies
iii
when I say I have ADHD
I mean my mind works like a racer
without a pit-crew
just a manic pilot navigating a lapping speedway,
trying to be ahead,
but
ends
up
breaking
down
iv
when I say I have autism
I mean that my being
is not meant to be a puzzle piece
paraded as someone else’s moment of zen
v
when they say I am a puddle
know that one day I shall become an ocean
formed by the waters that tried to drown me,
but I rise still floating, far from sinking
vi
when they say I am a flowerbed
wait until I bloom into a forest
that seeks to be a space for the broken,
from places that would rather see them dead
vii
when they say that I am a pebble
just watch me become a mountain
composed of all of moments
that made me stand
Biography
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Jared Benjamin/J.B. Stone is a neurodivergent slam poet, writer and reviewer from Brooklyn, now residing in Buffalo, NY. He is the author of the Micro Chap, A Place Between Expired Dreams And Renewed Nightmares (Ghost City Press 2018). His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Peach Mag, PANK, Five :2: One Magazine, and elsewhere. He is the Reviews Editor at Coffin Bell Journal and Editor-in-Chief/Reviews Editor at Variety Pack. You can check out more of his work at jaredbenjaminstone.com and his various tweets @JB_StoneTruth.
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