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.

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