I wrote poems in college sometimes. I've been looking back at them recently, since my life is in boxes which I have to move to suitcases soon. Some of them are interesting. They are mostly from freshman year, before I had even really thought I might be autistic (although I had already known for a long time that I might not work in quite the same way as everyone).

Anyway, here's one of them. I think it's interesting to look at now, with the things I know about how my brain works now.


numbers have feelings and ideas and tastes
numbers have differences and sums and some are good and some are bad
some are nice and some are not
some are happy and some are just there
and very precise

(but not people)

faces all disappear the moment I close my eyes
faces all have hidden languages
faces all whisper to everyone else secrets I never will know
faces all have people behind them a thing I am prone to forget

words are quite nice
words all sound different
words can be precise
words can be vague
words can be many things
words mostly make sense

(not as nice as numbers but better than people)

voices have differences
voices can be yes or no or maybe
voices mean different things for different ones more secrets I will never know
voices can be high or low or quiet or loud or happy or sad or bored or mad but I can never tell

I wish that people all had maps
And explanations
And google search for details when you don’t understand
And you could figure out what and why and when

I wish that you could pause

While you gather the other information

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