(click the picture to go to Angela's Vis Dare page and read all the other wonderful entries)
“Do you trust me?”
A hard question to answer, might as well be asking if I love
you. “I think I do,” it’s not a complete lie.
“What’s in the box?” I don’t have to look to see where her fingers point.
“It’s empty.” I can
see by the look she doesn’t believe me but it is true, it’s a locked empty
box. I notice the oddness, the way she
has been acting since the painting. I
don’t blame her truly. I know how I
am. I’ve been broken. I was happy being alone, invisible, never
trusting anyone completely. Until the
other. The only person I ever trusted
completely with who I am. And I thought
I had found a reason to believe in love.
To be the foolish romantic. And
then she proved me wrong once again.
Now, the loneliness is killing me even when I’m not alone.
Smooth and haunting. You creep into those somber dark corners of the soul so very well...
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