Maybe I can come back wiser from this.

Maybe I can be something else.

I've dried out ever facility that makes a decent human being.

What am i supposed to take from this?

That I'm kapoot.  I'm lesser and defunct.  I function on a plain that burns like an acid over false hope.  

Saliva drips from my lips

 while i gaze at a sky

that's grown jaded,

like the moon disgusted,

like faith shattered in the kitchen

into pieces

like the shrieking

of your mother

or your brain

diminishing, 

becoming everything