Outcasted

In the dusted and broken window glass of the rusted car,

in the dump yard, I see my reflection, outcasted it reflected, selling the parts of my soul for a living it reflected.

It's raining, running in the direction of the wind, rolling the tire towards my house.

The house with moist walls,

pale walls barely supporting the roof.

Opened and then banged the door like always.

"Xavier!" My mother shouted, her black scaly skin with grey and white patches

and margins all around scared others but not me, beautiful to my eyes.

Did you bring what I asked you to bring she asked?

"Two rats my mother",

will it be enough to fill our stomachs?" 

I could see they were not enough in the reflection of her tears,

trickling down her face.