Faded.
Like Thanos snapping his fingers and billions ceasing to exis-
Honestly: I’m jealous.
It must be nice to disappear,
Vanish, go ghost like Danny on Saturday mornings.
Clear your head, leave your reality
And then come back before dinner.
Magicians go through a secret trapdoor.
I’m not that talented, sadly.
My secret is simply that I can’t take anymore.
The wolves caged inside my soul are hungry and…
One day they just might eat me alive.
If I go away, it won’t be some elaborate act
Punctuated by a silly phrase or wave of my calloused hands.
No, in my case it would just be steering my car into traffic,
Or perhaps
Off of a cliff.
Maybe some unfortunate soul
Would inadvertently dig up my freshly laid corpse
Like a lucky archaeologist
Only, you know, un.
People wouldn’t gather in crowds to watch me dematerialize
Because those same people don’t notice me in everyday life.
To them,
I’m already gone.