There’s a worm in the apple of my eye. I saw its head emerge and then retreat. That monster with its hundred shifting feet begins the rot, and soon the rot’s complete. My love, when comes the inborn urge to eat, never eat yourself up from within: eventually you’ll eat right through your skin. Be patient with yourself, begin again.
The poem belongs to JonArno Lawson, I was gonna make art but I didn't know what to draw so I didn't-
