I breathe in, filling up my lungs with the cold, cold winter air. Hair the colour of ruby floating in the wind, the tears dripping down my face until they too float away. A piece of concrete crumbles away and falls, until I can no longer see it, swallowed up by the shadows, which  have come a bit too close for comfort now. Threatening to swallow me too.

Instead I angle my face to the sun. So unexpectedly happy it fills me up like a balloon, waiting to burst. I pick at my skin absently for it is always itchy. A leaf tickles my other hand and I move it aside. The sharp flash of pain, expected, still caused my breath to pause. Why must I be like this? A deformity.

The concrete is scratchy against the soles of my feet. I long for soil and water where the sky meets the earth in harmony, not standing here begging the sun. The sun is unforgiving and not one you want to argue with. She is too set in her path and will not shift for anyone but her own.

I pull on my shirt in discomfort.These vines get caught on everything. I am constantly trying to untangle myself. Irritation wells up, as quick as the tide. I breathe in and exhale, willing myself to accept it for what it is. The sun is now completely set with her sister the moon, peeking out from behind a cloud. My body yearns for the sun, folding in on itself in what seems dispair. An overwheming sense of confusion hits me again, but I guess all I can do is breathe.