“Just disappear,” I echo.
Not out loud, obviously.
No one would pay attention.
No, no one does pay attention.

“It’s easy,” I think.
Just take the razor.
The razor that makes me
feel reminiscent of 1984.

“Red’s a beautiful colour,” I bargain.
If I could see the aftermath,
if I could see the red stain their lives,
then I'd find happiness at least once.

“The pain is worthwhile,” I gaslight.
The blue nile visits me,
not in dreams, but in my ears.
I send myself downtown lights,
and hope someone sees the ones and zeros.