in violent currents which mangle me . I start to smell . The odour of my brain bubbles inside a greening skull . I try not to think about him . Think about it . I try to think of clean things . Normal things . Manly things . Things that don ’ t rock the boat and place me somewhere else . A barren land filled with barren people . I let the creature slither inside me until I am full . I swallow but the thoughts get louder and congeal into a clumpy mass like a tumour . I wish it was a tumour . Something physical and tangible . Something I can gouge out . But this thing twisting and convulsing inside me is immaterial . Invisible . A limitless expanse . Oh god . What is it ? What is inside me ? My creeping thoughts drain into the pit . Okay . On and on and on it goes secreting and crackling through synapses and electrified tissue . Something is happening . My head feels rotten and sharp . Am I trapped ? It is dark in here ... But I don ’ t want to leave . Sweet thoughts of love and sex and stuff that matters are tarnished by a cold reality .
Them . The sweet thoughts begin to sweat until they smell . Confined . Impulses that are jagged and nerves that are hot . Each one penetrates me , like him . Like them . It doesn ’ t hurt .
I am plural . I am several . They call me Legion , for I am many .