A Cold Day in March

If she sits against the wall, she can't feel. Resting all her weight, all her fears and hopes, against the cold stones, she goes numb. Turned off to all the trivial feelings she would have so strongly otherwise, the wall is her sanctuary, her security. The world seems softer somehow, noises dull, and everything fades to white. She leans her head back and rests it. Sometimes she thinks too much. She struggles with herself, but that's not unusual. Anything she could say would mean nothing. Her words slip out, small and barely heard, and softly float to ground. She can almost see them. She sits there with her words, and she can't feel.