The Disappearing Act

I am plotting for the day I disappear and start my own runaway club.

I am waiting, 
and preparing, 
for the day
I disappear. 
To wipe my existence 
off the radar 
of all those 
who know of me:
Blood-related or not. 

I will say it up front 
to those I trust enough,
“Don’t worry 
if I disappear one day, 
I am heading off
to a better place.”  
And top it off 
with my goofy smile 
and a roaring laugh; 
so if one day 
they felt like 
I betrayed them, 
and chastise me 
over the matter, 
I could shrug and tell them: 
“I told you so.” 
But they won’t ever know.

I am waiting, 
and preparing,
for the day
I hit rock bottom. 
To steel my will, 
for I will be on my own   
with no one there
to cover for me: 
Blood-related or not. 

I expect 
I may
become lonely 
sometimes. 
I could run 
my only little club,
and call it:
“The Disappearing Act”
and remind my members
to keep in touch.
For those who don’t, 
would receive 
honorary memberships
until the day 
they show up. 
I call dibs 
for being club president.    

I am waiting, 
and preparing 
for the day 
I see a familiar face. 
To plot a back-up plan 
and a sensational speech
for whoever it is: 
Blood-related or not.   

I expect 
I will 
raise up my hands
in mock defense
and give them 
a Cheshire cat grin
and say:
“Took you long enough.” 
And run in the 
opposite direction. 
If they ever catch up 
and demand 
a civil conversation,
I will shake their hands 
and say, 
“Long time no see, 
but let’s keep it that way.”

The End

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