The lost soul inside.


I am,

An open book,

With pages,



I am,

An old film,

With frames cut,



I am,

An imposable puzzle,

With secrets,

Written on the back,

Of every piece.


I am like a memory,

Shattered into so many,

Small pieces,

That no one can ever,

Seem to remember me,



I am,

An old pocket watch,

Lost in the sands,

Of time.


I am a little box,

With feelings locked inside,

But you can’t open me,


I have no key.


I am the kid,

That everyone see’s,

Yet still somehow,

Never seems to notice.


I am the child,

That speaks,

Yet no one ever hears,

The words I cry. 


I am the flame,

That will soon,

Go out.


But for you,

I will use,

The last,

Of my fire,

To keep,

You safe.   

This poem was written by my middle son just a few days ago. I know it has been tough on him growing up as the middle child, anchored as he is,  on either side, by siblings on the Autism Spectrum.

His words say it all and I am so very proud of his  extraordinarily sensitive and caring soul.

“Those of us who are too gentle to live among the wolves”

Artwork by Jennifer Healey

“I am one of the searchers.

There are,

 I believe,


Of us.

We are not unhappy,

But neither are we really content.

We continue to explore life,

Hoping to uncover its ultimate secret.

We continue to explore ourselves,

Hoping to understand.

We like to walk along the beach,

We are drawn by the ocean,

Taken by its power,

Its unceasing motion,

Its mystery and unspeakable beauty.

We like forests and mountains,

Deserts and hidden rivers,

And the lonely cities as well.

Our sadness is as much a part of our lives,

As is our laughter.

To share our sadness with one we love,

Is perhaps as great a joy,

As we can know,

Unless it be to share,

Our laughter.

We searchers are ambitious,

Only for life itself,

For everything beautiful it can provide.

Most of all we love and want to be loved.

We want to live in a relationship,

That will not impede our wandering,

Nor prevent our search,

Nor lock us in prison walls;

That will take us for what little we have to give.

We do not want to prove ourselves to another,

Or compete for love.

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers,

For lonely men and women who dare to ask of life,

Everything good and beautiful.

Are those of us,

Who are too gentle,

To live among,

The wolves.”

Words by  James Kavanaugh

Artwork by


“Never let them tell you that silence isn’t beautiful”


“I read her eyes like paragraphs

And her tears like chapters,

For she didn’t have much to say,

With words,

But rather,


And never let them tell you,

That silence,

Isn’t beautiful.

For silence is what happens,

When words fall asleep

And you must carry,

The belief,

That one day,

They will,

Wake up,

Inside of you.”

Words by Christopher Poindexter.

Artwork by Daniela Hallgren.


“My body is full of stars that never learned their names”.

Artwork by Carne Griffit

Artwork by Carne Griffit

“I am filled with things and I battle feelings,

I have never wanted to exist inside of me.

I lack too much confidence and I carry,

Too much sadness,

And my body is full of stars,

That never learned their names.

I wear my insecurities,

Like pockets,

And I fill them,

With my fears,

And my hands are growing tired,

From reaching down into them to hold,

The feeling of being afraid.

I am afraid.



Afraid like chimes,

When the wind lips,

Are sealed.

Afraid like your eyes,

When the stars,

Fall asleep in the black.

Afraid like dreams,

When they realize they are just dreams,

And that reality,

Is that one scar that will never,

Fade away.

I am,


Terrified that the things inside me,

Are the things that will keep me,

From ever finding a home,

Inside someone else.”

Words by Christopher Poindexter. Artwork by Carne Griffit.

Women with Autism – Stepping out of the dark

Lupytha HerminWomen with Autism,

Our lives are no longer about learning how to survive the storm,

Instead we’re now stepping out of the shadows,

That were cast upon us,

By the ignorance of others,

And we’re teaching ourselves and each other,

How to dance, splash and play,

In the colors of life….

And as we dance, splash and play,

We are helping one another,

To reconnect the dots,

Creating ourselves,



All Alone……

1048992_177511792418513_147821062_oToo often, this is how society makes women with Autism/Asperger’s Syndrome feel………

Yet we are not twisted and we are not bad….

We are all alone because too few have bothered to try and understand us……

So few in fact that we are often told that we need ‘fixing’…..

Yet deep inside we know that we’re not broken….

We are merely different….

Given all of that….

It’s little wonder….

That we have our moments,

Of feeling all alone,

And sad.


Women with Asperger’s – Are We Victims of our own success?

Art by Jason Limon

Art by Jason Limon

How is it that we can be so gifted,

Yet  so challenged at the same time?

We see the details others don’t,

Yet can’t seem to find the right words

Or ever be sure of what to say,

Sometimes, because of this,

Life becomes nothing but a struggle.

Whether it’s a struggle to physically speak,

Or a struggle to interact,

It takes painstaking work for many of us,

To get even halfway close,

To appearing “normal.”

Sometimes when this struggle drains us,

Others judge us for being  weak.

They tell us to just “toughen up”,

“To get over it”,

And everything will be Okay.

It’s  as if the better we do,

The more people forget,

Or don’t register,

Our challenges.

How ironic it is,

That we should become the victims,

Of our own success.