I don’t want to be in love again.
I don’t want to rekindle what I lost.
I don’t want to feel that vulnerable again- ever.

I am quite comfortable in the fort I've made;
strong brick walls and a strong brick roof
and very few windows with very thick glass.

When it rains I am dry.
When it is cold I am warm inside and
when it is hot, I have a sweet cool shade.

Only ever do I miss the wind,
the way it’d comb my hair,
the way it’d help me breathe.

The way it’d hold me until I fell asleep.
How it would carry flowers and lay them at my feet.
It’s sinful cunning and charming smile.

The wind was my friend, until it finally blew me away.
Do I miss anything? Yes.
Most days I think I miss the wind, but only the wind.