Failed communion
A single crumb falls in between the crevices of my breast
Before it meets its final fate on my kitchen floor;
The annoyance of the loss of potential sustenance
Will soon be forgotten during a 2am mania haze
Where I’ll finally sweep the floors,
Dumping that crumb, now covered by dust and purple onion skins,
Into the garbage bin filled two days past when it should’ve been emptied;
All for its contents to eventually
be burned and buried underneath
the roads that I will travel along to my death.