the terrible, horrible thing

always a little awkward, that talk.
a bit of a face flusher, the way a child
hides behind the gathering dress
of a mother, the way i dig
through my vocabulary
for some word that fits,
but i can only feel a stench though–
this is insensible.

a stench is
untouchable, unholdable, unlovable.
a stench so rotten and used,
wafts from my core, swarming
this echo room. no way out,
not a window nor a door.

my boyfriend looks at me
like he’s going to throw up
and as my body folds with my fears,
i crash down, evoking prayers to hosana
i be swallowed by this linoleum floor

how can you put something like this
into words? how can you calcify
this terrible, horrible thing
into a tangible hurt?