In this
Realization faze
Of this
Delicate end of madness
Momentarily
I unclench my fist
Looking down
At the nail marks in my palms
My hand transforms
Into
Giant black beetle bugs
So many bugs
All falling
To the floor
Then my arm
And then my shoulder
More and more
Squirmy bugs
Creepy crawlers
All the bugs
That make up our core
   Billions of bugs
That want to start wars
     Lots of Bugs...