She touches the wall as it turns to cold.

She feels the heat leave

The hands that were once rabbit ears and filled with crayons.

The arms that could be found wrapped around her daddy's neck.

The mouth that talked too fast

And the ears that listened too slow.

The eyes that smiled even when the mouth didn't.

 

She touches the wall as it turns to cold.

She feels the heat leave,

because the hands are now stained with mistakes.

The arms are now found tucked around herself.

The mouth is now careful as she talks

And the ears, always alert.

The eyes now vacant even when the mouth is occupied.

 

She touches the wall as it turns to cold.

She feels the heat leave,

and in it's place is numbness.

Numbness that makes all emotions irrelevant.

Numbness that stifles all hope and depth.

Numbness that prevaricates the truth -- simply because it is no longer valued.

Numbness that makes the walls turn cold

As she touches it.