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Beat


I hear a beat,
I know the sound
I feel a skip,
One that I’m used to
I see a picture,
But this one is new
I cry of pain,
Because I know this is real.

I hear a beat,
Because all love is gone
I feel a skip,
Since I wasn’t worth the truth
I see a picture,
Wishing it would burn
I cry of pain,
Because now I’m in the dark.

I hear a beat,
Wishing it were music
I feel a skip,
Wishing it would leave
I see a picture,
Wishing it would delete
I cry of pain,
Because the picture is forever in my mind.

I saw you today,
But I am still not sure it was you
Sure I gave you a huge hug
And told you how much I miss you
I squeezed onto you tightly
Fearing that I would lose you
But the thing is,
I already have
That girl was not you
Sure she had the same colored hair
And the same green eyes
But those might be the only similarities
I asked her all about school
And the voice I heard was familiar
But the tone wasn’t.

That girl was not you
You always smile
That girl looked miserable
You’re always positive
That girl seemed negative
You always have respect
That girl had none left
Maybe always is the wrong word.

I guess always now means used to
You used to smile.
You used to look positive.
You used to have respect.
But I guess that’s all gone.

If you want to visit me again as you
I will be waiting with open arms
To give you that hug – and mean it.
I miss you.

The above article was originally posted on Maidelle.com, an online magazine for Jewish teen girls to speak their mind. Check out the site and read more articles and poetry submitted by girls worldwide and join the conversation!

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I hear a beat,
I know the sound
I feel a skip,
One that I’m used to
I see a picture,
But this one is new
I cry of pain,
Because I know this is real.

Taking the words from my mouth,
Twisting them, stretching them, turning them round and round,
Negating their true meaning, as it was meant to be heard,
You hear what you want without really listening.

A poem about living with Asperger’s Syndrome.

Greetings to all, my name is Nachalah, I am a 24-year-old student. I am studying communications and graphic designing at Sapir College… Sapir College in Southern Israel is under fire, situated near Sderot and the surrounding Kibbutzim, where the bravest children in the world live.

It was the mid ‘60s and I was living with my mother and brother in public housing on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. We moved there from Brooklyn a decade earlier to be near my mother’s family when my father died suddenly of a stroke.

You’ve gotta settle, stop being so choosy, it’s a boy’s world after all
And you’re just one of the millions who think their worth something, have the gall.
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In the air.

Dear Cheryl,

Your thoughts in last week’s column were an absolutely perfect reflection of everything going through my mind and the minds of many of my friends for the last few years. Thank you so much. I always enjoy reading your articles, and when I read this one I felt I had to write to you because the topic touches such a nerve with me.

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