Instructions for Leaving Through the Cracks

1. Choose a night with no moon.

  Shadow is easier to wear when no one’s watching the sky.

2. Put your heartbeat in a jar.

  Label it something forgettable.

  Leave it in the fridge next to the leftovers.

3. Don’t pack.

  You won’t need your name where you’re going.

  Or your skin. Or your stories.

4. Stand in the doorway for longer than you should.

  Wait until the walls forget your weight.

  Let the hinges sigh.

5. Say nothing to the dog.

  She will understand,

  but it’s better if she doesn’t follow.

6. Bend time.

  You’ll find the seam behind the mirror,

  where the clock ticks backward

  and your reflection looks bored.

7. Crawl through that thin place.

  (It may taste like rust.

  That’s how you know it’s working.)

8. Forget your name in pieces.

  The vowels will go first.

  Then the smile it used to shape.

9. Walk until the world becomes rumor.

  Until trees speak in your mother’s voice

  and the crows call you by what you almost were.

10. If you see yourself coming,

  turn around.

  You’re not ready to be found.