How do I say my stomach is in knots? How do I say my brain is rotten? How do I say my warm, beating heart, full of insect wings, turned icy cold? How do I say: hold me. Overnight, I grew a shiny black hump. I turned into a beetle. All six feet want to run, like horses with wide eyes. All four eyes want to glance away, like a man caught doing crime. How can I say it? I can’t even say it. Stop throwing apples at me.