If I could always feel the wind on my eyelids; feel moved like the leaves; sadness would be a distant memory, never reality.

I am not the leaves, she thought, I am not a leaf. The wind stopped, refusing to be her distraction.

I am a series of pieces learning to be whole; human.

'These feelings always throw me off -- you never cared' she howled to a God she didn't trust.

Ah, but the feelings are meant for people and pieces have a way of fighting just right, given time. I love you now, always have, always will the wind whispered.

She cried.

A collection of pieces, free to do as they please, residing in this one life together, not alone, but lonely.

The tears fell.