By Baya Ginsburg
My best friends – my couch, (keeps me comfy)
my singing earbuds, (blocks them out)
my blanket, (keeps me warm)
my baking pan, (treats can’t talk back)
I hide behind them,
hide from the crowd’s dull roar.
people do nothing but let me down.
(My objects won’t talk back).
Touches and hugs I can’t reciprocate
Why don’t I return them?
They won’t understand they can’t understand.
(A blanket’s hug won’t talk back).
I just sit back and watch
that’s what I prefer to do.
Will I find someone who thinks like me?
(People like me won’t talk back).
I can actually talk,
although only on my own terms.
I can be like them (some-
times, I will talk back.)