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One of the best pieces I've seen. Thank you very much. 
A friend shared his son's poem yesterday, so I'll share it here as well.
Here's what he wrote (by R. Schroeder):
I get a lot of questions about what it’s like to be autistic, as though the asker thinks I can explain me. Usually, I give them some little token explanation about how my brain is "wired" differently, but I think I’ve finally got something, and I wanted to run it by you guys. It's not exactly rife with hidden depth, but it's a poem nonetheless. Feel free to share it if you think it's good.
It goes by orders of magnitude.
The solution is obvious.
Did no one think to open the second door?
Shutting doors are thunderclaps, thunderclaps gunshots.
Shut out. Shut down.
Blinking is hard, staring not nearly so.
The bumps on the ceiling make pictures.
The sound of a dime, spinning in the air.
Sounds heard before they arrive.
Silence isn’t silence, just background radiation.
Can’t not think.
Thoughts felt, thoughts heard.
Confusion hurts.
A stubbed toe is a sprained wrist is a broken arm.
How much did I miss?
A pulse felt without fingers.
A paper cut is a gash, a gash a wound, a wound mortal.
The needle prick still felt after a year.
Reactions vivid, emotions the same.
Where is that noise coming from?
Can’t you hear the lights?
Memories seen, memories felt.
How do you feel something slightly?
Can’t you feel your thoughts?
Contrast hurts.
Fracking destroys fossils.
Have ten minutes really passed?
Smells smelt before they permeate.
Everyone moves slow; everyone talks slow.
Is it possible to take a test that slowly?
It must be boring inside your head.
I’m not crazy.
My reality is just different from yours.
