foiled again
The demons are back.
The worst thing about going to a bar with the demons is that they like to talk -- whisper, actually.
Look at her arms, the catty one says, while we stand next to each other in front of the mirror. So thin.
I love her shirt, the brash one whispers. You could never pull that off. And before I have time to argue I can feel myself nodding. It's a battle I've long learned not to fight. Listening hurts, but arguing hurts more.
I can't win.
The worst thing about going to a bar with the demons is that they like to talk -- whisper, actually.
Look at her arms, the catty one says, while we stand next to each other in front of the mirror. So thin.
I love her shirt, the brash one whispers. You could never pull that off. And before I have time to argue I can feel myself nodding. It's a battle I've long learned not to fight. Listening hurts, but arguing hurts more.
I can't win.