Melanie’s Keratoconus Story

I live inside an impressionist painting, where colors smear across the canvas and ghost images hover around any large object I can actually identify. At night, my world is ablaze with eight-pointed stars that spring from every source of light. When I try to focus on your face, I see a double image of your features; your eyes and nose and mouth run together like melting wax.

Melanie’s Story

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