gemini216

the sharded basilisk emerges virulently from my forehead. trepanned and lobotomized, the i of which considers self, abates and recognizes its king.

i spit bile at my face, yet the illusion is shattered by ripples ridiculing me.

"i am from without and this you can not explain. It eats at you, boils inside of you, and explodes forth from you, but you will fail in every attempt to cull its meaning."

Saliva and blood weeps freely from me seeking audience from the void. Only the motherly compress of porcelain act as solace for whatever may come.