Upper East Side, blacked-out shade! I let the day pass like a sedative parade! Sleep as method, sleep as erasure — a private theology of disappearance! I wore my own face like a borrowed thing! I let the clock keep failing me! "I was going to sleep for a year," and let the world stay blurrier than fear! Rest and relaxation — not healing, not peace, just cessation! "I would wake up, and I would be different!" That was the spell, the drift, the hinge in it! If I disappear clean, who will even miss me? I go soft, I go slack — until I come back! Dr. Tuttle's script, the soft white lie! Reva at the edges, still asking why! I count the hours, the pills, the dead air — New York keeps shining like it doesn't care! I learned how to vanish politely, to answer with yes, then not quite me! Rest and relaxation — not healing, not peace, just cessation! "I would wake up, and I would be different!" That was the spell, the drift, the hinge in it! If I disappear clean, who will even miss me? I go soft, I go slack — until I come back! No clean rebirth. No moral arc. Just the dark, and the dark, and the dark. I wanted subtraction. I wanted sleep. I wanted the noise to pass, the edge to go quiet. Rest and relaxation — not healing, not peace, just cessation! "I would wake up, and I would be different!" That was the spell, the drift, the hinge in it! If I disappear clean, who will even miss me? I go soft, I go slack — until I come back! I wanted subtraction. I wanted sleep.
