How to Disappear (When You Were Never Here At All)

Step one:

In front of the other.

Paste your mask.

On Instagram—

make it sing,

with a filter

or two.

Copy.

Just for good measure.

Smile with

your teeth.

Close your eyes.

It’ll be over soon.

Step two:

Look in the mirror.

It’s not you

at all.

Never really was.

But you already knew.

Deep down

somewhere.

It’s why you try

so hard.

Step three:

Remember when

you were last seen—

without the Face

book

you made up,

with mascara,

and a wide-eyed

wink.

Step four:

It’s not so hard—

you’ve been disappearing since birth.

They taught you how:

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“Use your indoor voice.”

“Don’t take up space.”

“Big boys don’t cry.”

And girls—

well, they just comply.

Step five:

Delete nothing.

No one’s reading anyway,

no matter what

your stats might say.

Or how you kid

yourself—

you’re someone.

With an aim.

Step six:

Toss this guidebook out.

This isn’t a vanishing act.

—A Houdini trick.

It’s just a continuation.

You don’t need a manual

for that.

You were never here

to begin with—

no matter what

your gravestone

will say.

Beloved.

Sounds hollow

on stone.

But reverberates

across the empty space

you never really were.

At all.

Tik Tok.