Full of Empty

What would the cleansing of my brain look like? It’d look like a thousand worms who had been eating me on the inside falling out my ears and mouth and nose. Gray slimy bodies falling about my feet as I cough and blow and tilt my head to one side, knock the other with the roughness of my palm. “Git on out there!” I’d scream and the voice would not be familiar to me. The voice would be strong and forceful. The voice would make good decisions and stomp with high boots on every last one of my segmented foes, laughing as the gray skin broke and brown mush seeped out. The ground becomes mud. I was full of mud. Now I am clean and full of empty.