PHOEBE
What if nobody does? ”I ask myself that question just about every day. I don’t have an answer for you.” she said softly, looking into her coffee. ”You keep saying I deserve better than you, and if that were so, would I not have found it yet? I am young and fit and attractive enough to at least not be considered ugly. I am eager to please and cook and clean and do pretty much anything my partner would like me to do and yet here I am, alone. Unloved, unwanted, without a fit.” she said, shrugging a bit as she frowned at her drink. ”You haven’t really tried looking for your fit like I have. You’ve no reason to think you will fail. The baggage you carry doesn’t decide if you will or won’t succeed, clearly.”
She didn’t respond to his joke, not finding it funny in the least. And his apology? It also fell flat. ”If you were truly sorry, you would stop playing with my heart.”
She didn’t respond to his joke, not finding it funny in the least. And his apology? It also fell flat. ”If you were truly sorry, you would stop playing with my heart.”
When dark creeps in and eats the light
Bury your fears on sorry night
For in the winter's darkest hours
Comes the feasting of the Vours
No one can see it, the life they stole
Your body's here but not your soul
