Ode to Asperger's (Revision 2)

[RiverNotch]

Ode To Asperger's Revision 2

The world's too close; and never safe or plain. Shouldn't that be a comma? The semicolon I find detracting.
I want to tell you what it's like out there
beyond my door: it's chaos and old pain. So is the first line just meant to set up this line into the rhyme? It's not a strong, or perhaps even a good, opener. Too much of a load into an idea that's either unfamiliar or all too familiar to the readers -- if such a line was to be made, I think that would be better for a conclusion.
I want to drive somewhere, so I must bear
my old garage door's perforating din.
Unraveling, I climb into the car; A period wouldn't hurt here -- I feel that somehow, the overuse of the semicolon might just end up robbing this of the visceral power the whole "sensory overload" thing you're trying to show here has. Semicolons tend to scream "oh this poem is all sophisticated and intellectual and whatever", and that surely doesn't fit this ode.
the seat-belt viciously abrades my skin.
No choice; each time I have to go too far. So should the semicolon here. And "I have to go too far" feels contrived.

I see each single leaf and piece of trash
across the floor; before the car's in gear These two sentences would be better separated by a period. And shouldn't there be a comma at the end?
I'm rattled by a buzzing in the dash; 
a squeal as well, that I can barely hear.
Behind the wheel, I catalogue the smells: 
exhaust;  the dog;  a spilled essential oil;
damp wool;  deodorant.  My nose rebels Okay, that list I am sure should have been defined by commas, not semicolons. That was overdone. And deodorant sounds funny here -- the stress at the end is kinda forced.
against the random mix, and I recoil. Random doesn't feel right.

Dried water-spots on rear-view mirror glass
are overlays that move and disappear
as I back out the drive. Before I pass, 
a dozen things insist I see them near:
a crushed McDonald's cup; a ziploc bag;
a plastic GI Joe; a toddler's sock;
a trail of antifreeze; a greasy rag;
the lug nut from a wheel; a broken lock. I'm bothered by the semicolons again.


Overall, though, for this part, I really, really get the vivid feel of sensory overload, especially with the two catalogues. Onto the next part.

Before I've gone a mile, a hundred more:
(not only what I see, but what I hear) These two lines sort of rattle me. A sudden jump in time that's too close in mood to be the real twist -- I think this could be smoother.
the roar of inbound jets that shake my core,
the blasting hiss of brakes beside my ear. Why is it that this list is in commas, yet the two other lists are all semicolons? :S
So far it isn't fun, but still time flies This line also feels contrived. The readers already know it isn't fun, and the idea hasn't been developed well enough (although, mind you, it doesn't need to be developed furthermore, I think) for it to have reached a climax worthy of repetition. And the play on the idiom doesn't work for me.
as dread accumulates: a tidal wave
created from impending mouths and eyes 
of people I don't know. I must be brave. This is weird. Unlike the earlier portrayals of the condition, where the sensations are exaggerated so that the regular reader can feel those same ticks themselves, this metaphor isn't really strong enough to make us feel that sense of alienation. I would discard this metaphor altogether, and use something else, something more relatable or, er, physically painful.

This stanza keeps to the strong imagery of the earlier stanzas with its first half, but then loses it when it goes into a slightly different idea without maintaining the same sense of vividness.

My self-reliance dictates policy, The meter sounds forced by "policy".
(It always does, regardless of my fear.) Feels kind of redundant, this line -- we already know you're filled with fear (or an emotion close to it), and the first line already establishes the idea that you'll keep on anyway. This line should be different.
I sell an apt pretence of normalcy "an apt pretence of normalcy": isn't the stress in "pretense" at the second syllable?
but even so, the effort costs me dear. This idea feels like it could be better elaborated -- what do you lose, exactly? Or what kind of pain do you feel, which would again be best related with some hyperbole or whatever, as in the earlier stanzas.
My neck's as stiff as steel when I arrive
and sidle in, avoiding every eye. 
I shrug my way past chattiness; contrive,
with every unmet glance, my alibi. 

So no-one knows that I've got what it takes,
or calls to mind a word I left unsaid. The conflict with the speaker having to overcome the great fear of talking to people, and being pretty good in doing so, is completely overshadowed by the speaker overcoming the sensory overload of inanimate things, which might not be so different, sure, but most neurotypicals are not bothered by regular things, whilst a good ratio of them are so bothered by social interaction. This resolution feels deficient.
I'll leave sometime before my patience breaks, "Patience breaks" downplays the speaker's struggle here -- I find that it's more a matter of patience that she manages to break through all of this, instead something about determination or willpower or something. I think something along the lines of "I will leave soon, before the levee breaks / and victory is swallowed by my fear", something more forceful and dramatic, would work better. 
and once I'm gone, I might as well be dead. I really dislike this line, since it invokes the speaker's death unnecessarily. The speaker has already gone through so much, and seems to have won through in the end -- to suddenly view the speaker's escape as form of death is basically making the whole passage meaningless, which I don't think this ode intends to do.

The last two stanzas end up being fairly weak for me, as they're somehow disconnected, in a not very smooth or twist-y turn of thought, from the neuroticism of the earlier passages. Otherwise, a strong poem, I think -- thanks for the good read!