fbpx

The Autism Spectrum According to Autistic People

Autism neurodiversity

Poetry

Shoes on water, with only the sillhouette of a person standing in the reflection.

Poetry: Autism Is Invisible

Autism is invisible. The autism was invisible When I said the TV was too loud. The autism was invisible When I asked why people say

Poetry: Encounter

Feel my gazeas a wild thing’s nearby attention—when you meet it, be gentle.My burrow is close,to hide me from sudden strangers.See my face as stone:harsh,

Poetry: Away and Apart

A powerful poem about imagination, the value of solitude, the experience of nature, and the separation between an autistic and the rest of society.

Poem: They Called Me a Vulture

When Leza was bullied for standing up for survivors of sexual abuse, they turned the abuse on its head by forging a symbolic connection with an oft-maligned but useful animal, the vulture.

Poetry: Unmasking As Autistic Pride

in the world we live in,we are told the following thingsoverand overand overagain: “get up.” “try harder.” “use your words.” “speak louder.” “stop whining.” “you’re

A pair of hands hold a conductor's wand as if directing a symphony

Chains, a Poem by Elyana Ren

Thinks in poetry, lives in prose Dreams in colors she cannot understand The music of her words is lost In the starts and stops of

Poetry: Don’t Tell Me

Don’t Tell Me Life’s too hard I’ve come this far To go nowhere Why the blank stare? Don’t tell me you’ve been there.  I don’t

Shoes on water, with only the sillhouette of a person standing in the reflection.

Poetry: Autism Is Invisible

Autism is invisible. The autism was invisible When I said the TV was too loud. The autism was invisible When I asked why people say

Poetry: Encounter

Feel my gazeas a wild thing’s nearby attention—when you meet it, be gentle.My burrow is close,to hide me from sudden strangers.See my face as stone:harsh,

Poetry: Away and Apart

A powerful poem about imagination, the value of solitude, the experience of nature, and the separation between an autistic and the rest of society.

Poem: They Called Me a Vulture

When Leza was bullied for standing up for survivors of sexual abuse, they turned the abuse on its head by forging a symbolic connection with an oft-maligned but useful animal, the vulture.

Poetry: Unmasking As Autistic Pride

in the world we live in,we are told the following thingsoverand overand overagain: “get up.” “try harder.” “use your words.” “speak louder.” “stop whining.” “you’re

A pair of hands hold a conductor's wand as if directing a symphony

Chains, a Poem by Elyana Ren

Thinks in poetry, lives in prose Dreams in colors she cannot understand The music of her words is lost In the starts and stops of

Poetry: Don’t Tell Me

Don’t Tell Me Life’s too hard I’ve come this far To go nowhere Why the blank stare? Don’t tell me you’ve been there.  I don’t

Shoes on water, with only the sillhouette of a person standing in the reflection.

Poetry: Autism Is Invisible

Autism is invisible. The autism was invisible When I said the TV was too loud. The autism was invisible When I asked why people say

Poetry: Encounter

Feel my gazeas a wild thing’s nearby attention—when you meet it, be gentle.My burrow is close,to hide me from sudden strangers.See my face as stone:harsh,

Poetry: Away and Apart

A powerful poem about imagination, the value of solitude, the experience of nature, and the separation between an autistic and the rest of society.

Poem: They Called Me a Vulture

When Leza was bullied for standing up for survivors of sexual abuse, they turned the abuse on its head by forging a symbolic connection with an oft-maligned but useful animal, the vulture.

Poetry: Unmasking As Autistic Pride

in the world we live in,we are told the following thingsoverand overand overagain: “get up.” “try harder.” “use your words.” “speak louder.” “stop whining.” “you’re

A pair of hands hold a conductor's wand as if directing a symphony

Chains, a Poem by Elyana Ren

Thinks in poetry, lives in prose Dreams in colors she cannot understand The music of her words is lost In the starts and stops of

Poetry: Don’t Tell Me

Don’t Tell Me Life’s too hard I’ve come this far To go nowhere Why the blank stare? Don’t tell me you’ve been there.  I don’t