
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

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

An autistic marauder finds more than contentment in nature.

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

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

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.

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

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

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

I My mother pushed and screamed. I splashed into the wild rumpus already begun, the party of songs and a girl who cannot sing. I

It’s my island, mine alone, so I’m alone. Singing to myself and the sea. With equally endless ever-churning fractal blacks above and below me. And