Nuclear beasts form
inside me,
with hypotetical worms
that eat all of me,
and I cannot be bothered to try
the warmth,
and I cannot be bothered to try
at all.
All of the cells
that grow like cancers,
all of the wells
that swell like lasers,
all of the words that make no sense
and all of the times time felt so tense.
Let’s go back to the inocence.