To win a prize, deservedly so.

Anthropocentric ideals have had me wishing for foggier mountains, longer rivers and deeper lakes. When one's only consolation lies with the trees, at the feet of them, beneath where their roots claw for damper water sources and in the tops of them where the leaves crane in the competition for better light. I don't wish for snow or for sun or for light but only for freedom. I don't want jingling pockets, even heavier bank accounts or expensive materials to adorn myself with. I don't wish for a man with strong arms or a friend with a sensitive kindness only for me. I only want to breathe freely, knowing finally that I am not the centre of the earth. As well as knowing with a quiet pride that my life before was a prize that was won, deservedly so. The best candidate was me.

I want to feel like I am allowed.