A poem
The loneliness of autism
The static hum of solitude
fills quiet moments unchecked,
as I orbit in a universe
that speaks a language I can’t grasp.
Words slip past in muffled tones,
gestures glow dim and opaque
while all around me worlds unfold
just beyond my reach.
I strain to glean meaning
from whispered socially-coded cues,
my mind speaking another tongue
familiar only to me.
Their conversations crackle, fizz,
as I grasp at distorted threads,
knitting their patchwork concepts
into shapes revealing their world.
Adrift outside their circles
I search their eyes, as they turn inward
hoping to find resonance
in these distant shining stars.