I am a synesthete. I see colors and movement to music – to all sounds, actually but music makes everything prettier. I also see words, I can feel them. My synesthetic experience has always been beautiful but I never paid extra attention to it. The colors, the movements and the feelings have always been there.

Recently, I have been expanding my musical experience, and I am enjoying it greatly. I am paying more attention to what I see, to what I feel.

It is hard to explain. I wish I could paint it, but I can’t. So I wrote a poem.

The format, the capitalization, the punctuation, are an attempt to be true to my experience.

I am writing about other songs, about different music styles. These were chosen first because they came to me as I began exploring my synesthesia. Each stanza references a different song.

Music: Hugh Dillon and Canadian band Headstones

Warning: brief use of the f-word

Music, Colors, Movement, Feelings

It starts here

Sorrytown in Durham County.

Evoking loneliness

The word feels like a gentle stroke

The melody sips in and through my body

Absorbed, it lulls me

It appeases my soul

A fading orange
The voice awakens me

Gentle, potent still

Circles – fire red

Slowly forming everywhere,


A mighty ball of energy

Yellow, it spins





Radiating light

Van Gogh I am not

And this is my “Starry Night”

I hear circling and spinning – I see red

My stimming Autistic body squees.

The frozen motion before the bliss – Bright red

I silently scream

Fuck yeah!

Silence, no more.

It’s unspoken



Words quickly form in the air like a prism the spectrum of colors

Slowly they vanish

One by one

New words emerge

Notes… and….tunes …. glide… on… a … rainbow

“Pinned down” to the polychromatic air

My body exhilarates

Surrounded by a cyclone of yellow and orange

I am the center

A towering cyclone of yellow and orange

Harmonious harmonica


Ecstasy. I embrace it

I SEE a sound of sorrow

Gradually giving in to hope

I’m in a bubble

I feel empathy

In this midnight

I breathe yellow

THE LOUD NOTES come with

Previously unexpected blue

THE NOTES SOAR from behind

The cotton-like textured wall

They reveal themselves to me

Until they hide again

Allowing for words to form in the air

Music and colors and movement

In my nearly motionless body

I revel in them

I celebrate

I discover





Amy Sequenzia, 2015

Image description black and white photograph of woman with short dark brown hair. She is smiling. Dark grey text reads:Amy Sequenzia Passionate Autistic activist, writer, and poet . Read more from Amy on Ollibean and visit .

About the Author:

Amy Sequenzia is a non-speaking Autistic, multiply disabled activist and writer. Amy writes about disability rights, civil rights and human rights. She also writes poetry. Amy has presented in several conferences in the US and abroad, and her work is featured in books about being Autistic and Disabled. Amy is deeply involved with the Neurodiversity Movement and has been outspoken about the rights and worthy of disabled people. Amy serves on the Board of Directors of the Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN), and the Florida Alliance for Assistive Services and Technology (FAAST). and Autism Women’s Network. You can also follow Amy on Twitter at @AmySequenzia.


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