I stare at the sky and keep watch as the stars disappear,
so I know that I’m in the right place,
the oblivion I crave,
lies just over the hills,
The shouts of the world coating my ears like tar,
and I wrap my hands around my ribs tightly so they don’t slip through and cling,
sitting on my chest and holding breath captive,
until I am forced to ransom myself and turn,
I stare at the road,
winding underneath without thought or care
of the feet moving with such purpose,
and with such conviction.
Aware that determination can also be mislabelled,
can be judged and found wanting,
and those steadfast feet
The turn is my enemy and the hills beckon,
and the last stars wink out
letting my eyes adjust
to the darkness,
and the final rise comes at last,
and now then,
and now then…
Will the world resist?
Will it cling?
Or will it let me go with grace,
with a last pleading embrace,
and then release
watching with old,
as I stumble forward.
As the prize pours out like
balm across my head and I bow,
with the emptying.