In the distance, my silhouette is already murky, my outline blurred. Forget about me. Lose the wispy details of who I am into the devouring shadows of your mind. Make the opaque recollections of me dissolve completely, already hazy in your memories. Search for lost reminiscences, but then abruptly halt. Make my sharp edges blunt, my soul soft. Think of me through a grimy pane of glass, not bothering to wonder which has the smudges. Dull the memories of me, transforming the breakneck pace of life into a languid crawl, the aromatic smells and sights into gray monotony.

It won’t take much time, certainly. It may be too easy. Just put down the pencil and pick up an eraser, and you’ll find the dark edges already smeared by a careless hand. Remove the childlike strokes of the pencil with the firm, unyielding rubber, making the page cleaner. Carefully erase my jagged outlines, replacing them with a stark emptiness.

Don’t let the troublesome marks left after erasing remain on the paper. Vigorously rub away at the persistent outline of shapes that persist. Blow away the eraser shavings carelessly, for they are already marred by the dark graphite. Watch the billowy eraser shavings and hopes glide down gently, getting lost in the flat, monochrome tones of the concrete. Delight in the bareness of the page, unblemished and untainted by bothersome stains.

Rub away at my artificially varnished surface, watching the satisfying streaks of the original dulled paint emerge. Clean away the glaze, stripping it down to its grimy backbone. Scrape away at the bothersome film to uncover the dusty surface beneath that longs to be forgotten. Push the dried, shriveled-up lacquer right up to the edge, easily rolling it over.

I’m already veiled in shadows, without your trying. I pull the sickly sweet, comforting darkness around me, snuggling under its deceptively velvety softness. It surrounds me unconditionally, constantly, consuming yet insulating me. Strangled, shielded, I let myself be utterly encompassed by the unforgiving blackness, making it easier for you to lose me to the engulfing shadows of your mind. Trembling at the thought of leaving the shaded coverings, anxious to venture beyond the stifling gloom, I stay hidden within the heavy darkness. Glancing at but not seeing me, looking at but not recognizing me, people pass by. How can you forget something that’s already gone?

Allow the shroud of murkiness that already envelops me to suck me away completely. The pall of gloom hangs over me threateningly, expectantly. The dark chasm grows ever larger, stretching over the memories of me. For I’m already forgotten.