Migraine

Originally posted to Twitter on January 18, 2022. Fleeting waves of mirage haze sleeting across my eyes like rot’s reeking spore, each flexing the world’s bounds further still—walls bow against absent pressure and cracks grow into gaping doors, and all the while the shimmering gem of aura’s heart eats and eats and eats— That brightly lit not-mouth, an angel dancing at the center of my vision; it’s odd how similar a mouth and a wing and an eye can look, you know, how feathers are just teeth seen by someone who’s still waiting to be taught how to be a victim. ...

Each morning you wake to new holes in your vision, new sharp-edged gaps; each morning you wonder what they will take from you. At first it was only ever small things, easily unnoticed, spare chargers and half-forgotten souvenirs, the remains of a meal. Nothing that mattered. But then you woke to find that one had opened near the center of your vision, a gash of flickering emptiness tearing at the world; and as you turned to hug someone you can’t remember any more you felt it tear her apart, smelled her hot blood spilling out to soak the sheets. ...