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.