The counting boy
I knew a little boy
Always counting
1 2 3 4
He had such an intense look in his eye
What was he counting?
I am always counting too
Maybe not out loud all sing song like
But counting still
I count the days I don’t remember
I count my smiles before they fade to scars
I count the days I stared out my window
Saw homemade kites and grassy hills
I count the whispered words and screamed promises
I count the broken dreams and... mehr anzeigen
The counting boy
I knew a little boy
Always counting
1 2 3 4
He had such an intense look in his eye
What was he counting?
I am always counting too
Maybe not out loud all sing song like
But counting still
I count the days I don’t remember
I count my smiles before they fade to scars
I count the days I stared out my window
Saw homemade kites and grassy hills
I count the whispered words and screamed promises
I count the broken dreams and scared cries
I count the echoing laughs
I count the christmases
That my father held his head in his hands
I count the fallen tears
I count the days and hours spent in dresses and shoes
I count the “baby girls”
I count the times I’ve held my mouth shut
I count the bruises
I count the days I’ve spent screaming inside myself
You can't count in hours or minutes
I count in years
I count the years I’ve spent wondering
What have I done
I count the missed birthdays and forgotten phone calls
I count how many things get thrown across our kitchen
I count the times i’ve wondered
Where are my patched up dreams?
I count the shadows
before I count the lights
I count all of the things wrong with my body
I count all of my humiliations
over and over
I count the days I’ve had to relive
Watching myself count over and over
There is so much more to count than blocks and clouds
Seconds and months
Moms and dads
Brothers and sisters
I count all the things I’ve been counting
25,26,27,28
All I’ve been doing is counting
I count all of my missed homework
Every red felt F on paper
I count the mirror glass
As it hits the floor
The drops of blood
On the pure white tile
I count the lab coats and needles
I count the frowns and secret hallway meetings
I count how many bald heads I see wander
I count all the pointless things too
Cars, and chairs and the like
I count the missed fishing trips
The sleepless hours
The stares into nothing
I count the years
My brother hasn't grown
When did he stop?
Is he counting pointless things?
How many people are counting?
Are we counting each other?
Or do we all think that we are the only ones counting?
Do we know the exact number of sorrows being counted?
Does the counting boy?