Fuck me
and my public face. I’m
too stuffed with my own trouble
to pretend I’m bearing it with grace.

Time now to drink and smoke, time
to wash down pills and read evil books.
I’m a lying sack of shit lying on a bad bed
waiting for the wrong joy to come.

If ever I was ready
for the last bark of the black dog,
this would be the time. He can flog me
with his carrion breath and I’ll accept every blow,

biting back tears and rage because I think I deserve
whatever I get. No “woe is me” bullshit.
I bought my woe and wear it like a crown.
Watch it tumble off my head as I go down.