Foul,
rotten,
something about you gives the stench of burned flesh,
the stain of corroding steel,
the buzzing sound of a thousand insects.
When you talk I feel like centipedes crawl up my spine,
roaches swirl between my toes,
and worms pour out of ears.
My eyes itch, and I twitch
underneath my skin
for your soul
is the foulest din.