The speaker describes strange, dreamlike changes: losing eyes, growing claws, and coughing up a million fruit flies. Each time, they shrug it off with "probably because I am not myself." That casual tone is the poem's trick. The body feels unreliable and the self feels unstable, but the speaker treats it almost like a weather report, even cracking a joke about loving fruit too much.
Beneath the dry humor, something darker appears. A voice says "Kill your self," and another voice, called "it," answers "Shut up." The speaker says they never considered suicide, yet they appreciate that something inside them fights back. That phrase returns in the last stanza, now with calm acceptance. The speaker is back to two eyes and ten fingernails, but being "myself" or not no longer matters so much.
The mood is odd, wry, and quietly tender. It suggests that feeling like a stranger to yourself can be survived, and even met with gentle humor.