(no subject)
I feel a sense of dread.
The truth is never quite at my grasp. It evades me, persuades me to abandon search. I don't know who is to blame; perhaps myself the most.
But I feel the lie in my gut. I feel it in my declining health. I feel it boiling for attention and commanding tears at its will. I feel that truth will be the death of me.
And like in the Coqette, my health will kill me if I continue to suppress, and it will kill me if I persist. Destiny is cruel in her offered choices.
The truth is never quite at my grasp. It evades me, persuades me to abandon search. I don't know who is to blame; perhaps myself the most.
But I feel the lie in my gut. I feel it in my declining health. I feel it boiling for attention and commanding tears at its will. I feel that truth will be the death of me.
And like in the Coqette, my health will kill me if I continue to suppress, and it will kill me if I persist. Destiny is cruel in her offered choices.