The cold breeze blows through my hair, each strand creating a design all around me. Goosebumps stand up to attention as blood rushes through my veins. Drowning in the never ending rain as the powerful winds push against my body.
The entirety of my life I have been told to fight against it, to not fall, never ever fall for if I do I have failed and no one wants that. Always push against the wind because everyone else does. Not questioned, just done.



Standing against the wind never poses as an easy task. Struggles lurking around every corner will try to knock you down.
When your time comes to stop fighting and it will, it always does, you will collapse blissfully, heads hung in your honor.
However, if you jump and let the wind carry you away what a depressed and confused lost soul you must have been. Never asking why they just put on a sad face and keep wrestling with their own battles.
What a terrible act falling is. Though the ones who lay on the ground have the most fame.
The wind, a powerful element that no one could defeat. No gun, knife or brute strength matches up to the power of each blow. Complicated and tiring, constant conflict. An endless cycle no living being could escape.
I grow tired of standing, of trying to fight an impossible war and I give up letting nature takeover as my body gracefully descends to the ground. As I lay on the concrete and look up at the dark starry sky, I embrace each small pool of water splashing onto my skin. A smile approaches for I have failed.