My Senses and My Defences.

It can strike me anywhere at all,
Even at home if something heavy falls.
It's a feeling to make you want to hit the road,
A phenomenon with my ilk called sensory overload.

I get it from sounds that are sudden and loud,
Or even if I spend too long in a crowd.
But my greatest trigger is being tickled or poked,
Others can laugh there but to me it's no joke.

I hated having my face painted as a child,
Because unlike for others, for me it didn't feel mild.
Each brushstroke of it made me want to cry,
And now I can pinpoint the exact reason why.

Now while as an adult those hazards remain,
Living my life is something from which I won't refrain.
Because whether I'm considered simple or insane,
Many before me have shown there's nothing you can't gain.