When you sleep, you start to lose grip of the things that you’re holding. Like the phone on your right hand or the book that you’re reading.
Slowly, slowly, you let go.
You vanish from the world, out of your consciousness, away from here. You create a life where I’m not real.
In case you leave, that’s how it should go. Slowly lose grip of me, then let go.
Daily Post’s Vanish.
Bittersweet Sensations 