I’ll drink from the water

fountain fluoride dispensers

and corrode my

pineal gland because my

dreams are already dead

 

best not to think too much

or you’ll think

 

of a way out

or of someplace you should be

would rather be

supposed to be

 

I’ll shower in it

so it rots everything else

preserving only itself—

 

I hope it kills my vision

and I have nothing but black

empty nothingness to sleep in

 

I can’t live if there’s anything left

to wish for.

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