Autistic

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They laugh.

I cry.

They joke.

I sigh.

Their words of hate.

flowing out of their mouths,

funneling into my ears,

breaking my heart.

I may be autistic

but that doesn't mean

that my feelings don't matter.

 

You laugh.

I cry.

You joke.

I sigh.

The harsh language

filling the air

making it seem like

there is no room to breathe.

"HELP!"

I scream.

"STOP"

I beg.

But it's no use.

No one will listen.

Not to an autistic kid.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me

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