Poetry (I think)

This poem is beautiful. I absolutely love poetry - I have a short collection out myself with a small press, including a couple of poems about my Asperger's diagnosis. Here's one:

Developmental History

As part of the assessment process for autism diagnosis, a developmental history is often taken from adult family members who knew the patient as he or she grew up.

Daddy wore new trousers; Mummy left her posh-girl pupils

to go to you, Doctor. I’ve seen the conversation’s remains –

its exoskeleton looks like crushed ice.

Was there a game of twenty questions? Fifty?

More? I understand you asked them about my past

obsessions with spiralling car wash brushes;

with lighthouses on headlands. But I was exiled,

held at school so I wouldn’t spill on your carpet.

I hope you could all feel the poltergeist

of me, simmering. I want you to have blinked

and listened to the clock’s bradycardia; squinted

into violent sun that howled through the panel in the door,

down chalk tracks, to a History classroom,

where my skirt climbed laddered nylon against fat thigh,

tears scalding the pus-filled stars across my cheeks,

bloody lipstick pooling on my chin.

The stanzas haven't come out right here. It's supposed to be in four quadrains (four stanzas with four lines each).

The stanzas haven't come out right here. It's supposed to be in four quadrains (four stanzas with four lines each).