The sun beckons me out to play.
it flashes its brilliant rays,
winking at me, tempting me with its warmth.
"Come here little one, I will love you," it says.
I squint in return, closing my eyes from its shine.
"I am unlovable," I say matter-of-factly, almost proudly.
"No," the sun says in a new tongue,
"no, you are my child, and I love you.
I love you.”
I have heard this strange language before
maybe somewhere in a forgotten life.
But I do not understand it.
I feel my heart reacting to it,
wrenching itself into pieces.
It is the most awful ache.
The sun is too bright for me.
I turn before I am blinded.
"Have a nice day," I say quickly before walking away.
I feel the sun’s heat, burning my skin through the back of my shirt.
I quicken my pace.