Prodigal

She's imperfect, but she tries She is good, but she lies She is hard on herself She is broken and won't ask for help She does not believe that the things he says make her exceptional, but gods, it feels good to be praised, to be showered with affirmation rather than drowned in defeat. A little of the smile returns, childish and fragile as she looks at the man. "I tried," Amalia whispers, her alto voice soft and brittle. "Everything keeps falling apart, but I... I try." It feels good, to cling for a moment to the small successes in a sea of failures. But all good things must pass. Shadow falling on her face once more, Amalia moves to her piles of books, picking one up to show Jigano. "Well, provost- maybe you can help me." A little bit of humor in her voice, though she still sounds ragged, tired and dull. "I was trying to read up about Safrin. About her origin. Have you come across anything?" a m a l i a She is messy, but she's kind She is lonely most of the time She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie She is gone, but she used to be mine