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.