Words

[alchemystic]

Today the illusion sang to me of false synchronicity and platitudinal offerings of bile. Gently, lovingly, it tried to caress my ears with its discordant wailings of candy-coated emptiness. It extended its decrepit, thickly veined claw in my direction in what was supposed to be an inviting caress, but instead it merely tore my flesh, unwitting, with its clumsy, poisoned embrace. In fear, I tried to be what it wanted of me, but instead I succeeded only in exacerbating its attempts at demanding of me acquiescence.

So I turned my back on it. I will escape you, this I swear.