404

the delicacy of vanishing
is so tempting—
to fade away
into the night
out of plain sight
away from the oil changes
the trips to the bank
and the emails that hope that they find me well.

i think about running
fast and hard
the wind knocking around my lungs
my brain becoming clearer and cleaner
throwing my phone
and my laptop
into a youtube shorts hydraulic press
hoping someone else finds it satisfying

i think about holding my breath
and plunging
a vast pool of emptiness
aquamarine that cradles me
in cold comfort
and swallows up all of my thoughts
good and bad alike

the desirability
of floating
in the sky or in the sea
and becoming nothing

nothing nothing nothing

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