Count down
I have to count up
count up to ten
every now and then I do
or wait until the clock ticks even out
so i can breathe again
and think clear
and not be seething
smoking through the teeth
and out the ears
cool off
count up
or down
feel the breeze
and feel at ease
even if I need to scream the house down
count
down
count the pieces of heart I have
not left, but right
all right and round and smooth
enough to soothe a burning rage
like a hole scorched right through
every single page of your favourite book
when you can no longer look back
or forward sometimes
without seeing your own hands
and wondering how to make them work
in ways that abandon the complete lack of faith
inherent in the faces
of the grave, cold stones
the ones that
you know
burn those holes, like ungrateful children
not seeing
not seeing
i breathe
i count to ten
and down again.
written 23/9
