teeth
My brain is growing teeth, and my nerves are root canals. I don't know how else to explain this feeling, it's not something anyone else has experienced. Not like me. What do you do when "they" are becoming "you"? Are you afraid? Do you feel happy? Is a sense of one-ness worth the abject horror that pokes its head out as a response to distinctly changing? I have rabies, my brain has rabies. I have sharp canines. I want to bite. I want to intersect my mouth with someone else's and bite, I want to pass spit and blood and saliva and teeth until I'm happy and maybe they'll be able to start being happy too. I want to kill. Or maybe I don't. And I don't know who I is. My brain is growing teeth and that's a fact of life. and they'll get sharper and sharper and sharper. And they'll eventually want out. They'll bite. And through a glimmer of sweat, saliva, and emetosis the sludge will reflect something beautiful and new and foreign.
Or something.
I don't have a picture, I can't visualize a mural of spinal fluid and pink effervescent blood for you.