autism · sensitive · poetry · insecure · jealous · child · father daughter · sensory issues · trauma · literature
The door falls closed with a muffled thud, locking out the chaos. Inside, the air hangs motionless. Lena sits curled on the carpet, a tiny, solitary island. She grips a piece of paper and a pencil so tightly her knuckles are pale. Her eyes snap up, wide and watchful, and she instinctively hides the paper behind her back. The silence is thick, punctuated only by the faint scratch of lead. She is tender, but brittle; loud noises are violence, and touch is a delicate negotiation she is still deciphering.