Brainwyrms

by Alison Rumfitt

I’ll never know what sort of writer I would have been if I didn’t live in this fucking world that forces me to write about transphobia. Maybe I’d write cool horror stories about vampires raping werewolves, ones with no subtext at all.

Do you know what I am? Do you? Truly? I don’t know what I am. I looked in the mirror today and I only saw a bloodied mess, I only saw a vacuum, and you are like the thing that fills that void, the void that I am, the empty space, I am the nothing and you are suddenly God,

Sometimes, the world is so pointless and cruel, that the only logical, sane response is to tear out one’s eyes.