Down and out

by Ralkkai

I sit here and think
to myself
I can’t do this.
I can’t go back to this.
I can’t crawl back inside.

The hardest thing is
to face the sun
and smile manically at it

as if,

everything will be alright.

It’s not getting there
that hurts
but the falling
down the darkening
that fills an empty vessel
with rats and pain.

I am an empty vessel
a veil of solitude
and a bastard
drunk on cheap stock-card
cut-out false-eyelash realities.

Fishnet legs
and vague swells of
smug snears
and would-be queers

down and out
in Texas;
the home of the swine.