Wide open.

The throttle.

The tap.

Whatever.
Whatever analogy floats your boat.

Let it flow,
let it
roar.

Watch the numbers shrink.
The gifted numbers,
the heirlooms,
the legacy of ancestors.

Watch the needle race from
full to empty.

Watch it all swirl
clockwise
down the metaphorical drain.

Find me sprawled.

Hungry.

Fiending.

Find me when it's all gone
and you won't even recognize me.

You'll look down,
pitiless,
and I won't even notice you were there.