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"𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒚
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆,
𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚
𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒖𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒎,
𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅,"

"𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 (𝒐𝒐𝒉), 𝒎𝒎𝒉, 𝒎𝒎𝒉
𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 (𝒐𝒐𝒉), 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑
𝑵𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒂 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃,"

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𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙙𝙖𝙮, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛?

We sit here, our backs pressing onto the seesaw as we watch the sun come down. It isn't exactly a sun but it's the light that provides us warmth and brightness so I began to call it 'the sun'. The clouds have gotten much darker and the sky isn't blue or yellow anymore. It's deep pink and gray. The lights are still flying upwards around us but I found the clouds more interesting now, scarier and darker.

𝙄𝙣 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚.

The wind comes and it brushes the girl's hair to the side, her white dress that never seemed to get dirty no matter how much junk she put on it, twirling its ends.

"It'd be nice if you could shed tears." The girl answers as if she had heard my thoughts. Her eyes are facing upward to the shy but I know she's talking to me.

I turn to face her just as the wind got stronger. She curls up into herself, raising her legs to her stomach and her hands around her knees. Her head rests on her arms and I can see that she's cold. Her voice is a little smaller than usual and I've never seen her cold so I'm confused, I'm searching her eyes for answers but there aren't any, she doesn't have answers herself.

"Winter even comes to this world." She adds.

Winter.

Yes, I haven't felt Winter since I've come here but even if it does come, winter I mean, I won't be able to feel it. I cannot feel anything so I'm not cold, I don't feel the need to cover myself. I don't feel cold. I'm never cold. I'm never warm. But she is. She feels it, the coldness, the warmth, the breeze. She feels everything and I wonder if it's hard, to feel so much when you want to feel nothing? I wonder if she can handle it. The cold. Will she handle it? Can she?

𝙄𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙠𝙮?

I turn to face the sky, watching the clouds as they move slowly, watching the colors change and the lights fly up above the clouds.

𝙄𝙛 𝙨𝙤, 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚.

𝙋𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮, 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙.

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