Some days, disappearance is a seductive notion.
——–
Sometimes you just want to walk away
From the masses
The mess
And the meddling.
A bike would be faster, and so you start pedaling.
Reveling in the transient freedom of
“Nobody knows where I am”
And you want to keep going
But you can’t stop thinking
That the freedom of nobody knowing
Is just for a while
Unless you take that one step
That one extra mile
The one where you never come back.
But there are still people you’re willing to sing to
And there are still days that aren’t hell,
And there are still one or two threads you can cling to.
So you follow them back to the life that you’re aching to leave
And you try to believe it
When they say you’ve “been found safe and well”.