Disappearing Act

By Andrew Santos, Sierra Nevada University

I want to fly away, 

drift into the distant sky,

Become smaller,

the farther I go.

I want to go to unreachable treetops.

I want to be rid of this slow motion.

The blurred lines and confusing minutes.

Oh, how time messes with me.

A Stranger to myself, I wish to drift away from.

To leave it.

I want to fly so high,

I exist as simply a speck, 

to everyone else.

A miniscule material.

Maybe like a balloon.

How quickly those seem to fade.

Seemingly disappearing so smoothly

A quick gentle whisper of goodbye.