Coin Operated Girl

When someone is carb loading you for over a decade, you start to tire of bread. Lethargic, sluggish, blood sugar spikes, and energy crashes. Always full, always numb. Eventually, someone comes along and sparsely feeds you a few measly crumbs at a time. At first, it feels refreshing and exciting. But I start losing weight, and my muscles begin to atrophy. I go longer and longer without any sustenance at all. Craving a meal just once, just a small one. But you never give it. You give only enough to keep me alive. I don't even think you have the capacity to feed yourself.

A pretty fool.

You promised you wouldn't disappear. You promised to show up. You will never change.

You're a magician, an expert in your craft. You disappear like it costs you nothing, and it doesn't. You sit back, legs up, crossed - without a care. You tell me to enjoy the show - for once, just relax. I start to lose interest and scan the exit doors. But you sense my displeasure - ramp up the antics and enhance the illusions. But that's all they ever are, beautiful haunting illusions. I find it increasingly hard to look away, but to keep the show going, you are draining magic from my soul. I'm trapped in this place. Held captive to your party tricks. I can walk away, but I don't. My legs don't move. So I stay in this place, and let you deplete any reserves of enchantment I had left. The show must go on.