Hiding in plain sight

Poetry 
I borrow a smile, or a gesture.
The way he walks,
The way she styles her hair,
A certain laugh,
A way to shake a hand.

I pin these things I find to my chest
Like discarded leaves from the forest floor,
Dead layers of camouflage,
But underneath I disappear.
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Published by E.Travelli

I like to write short stories which come from my Welsh roots with a sprinkle of magic and mysticism. As an autistic person my poetry often reflects my experience of existence, and is an expression of being neurodiverse.

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