For an ‘all or nothing type’, oblivion was a great way to escape…
No cliff too high, no high too high.

No touch too connected by fire…

With escape at the wheel, it’s like no one is driving.

But, how do we find oblivion
when all our tools are gone, 
the driver is on vacation,
and yet the body/mind screams for it?

I emptied out my baggage and cast away,
My ship of sails sunk as I lay on shore just …. 
just listening to my breath, 
watching the ashes of the hull drown.

With only the breath, oblivion is an island,
somewhere on the horizon.
We could build another boat, it’s a long haul,
but how about just breathing instead?

Oblivion in, oblivion out. 

My oldest friend, the unfathomable depth of the stars, 
like a breath of it’s own,
a comfort to my decades.

I can breathe into that.
Stars in, stars out. 

I can tell you that there is no running. No mountain is remote enough. No depth of ocean is worthy. 

The escape WILL become your cage. 

It’s in the cells… There is nowhere to go. 

‘Give up, give up’, cackles the black crow,
‘breathe into this red sky morning.
Deal with the burns, the dark turns,
wait for the ashes to settle. 
Wait for the true silence,
you’ll know it when you hear it, 

and lay your new foundation down’.