xxix. ANOTHER POEM WITH
NUMBERS IN HOPE YOU
FEEL MORE THAN I HAVE EVER.
it's a night full of empty moonlight that matches the insufficient glow in my chest and i wonder if that's why my skin has become dull and my eyes are drained more than usual. i count back from ten, chase sheep more than sleep, it's odd how numbers become nothing when you repeat them more than a hundred times. one hundred, ninety-nine, why does it matter anyways? i'll wake up and pretend i'm fine until i fall to the floor, tripping over the self esteem that has been pressed down by a heavy anchor i can't lift on my own. i'm tied between being better and not caring how far i drift out into this sea of deteriorating souls. bellowing out the same numbers that once put me into a deep sleep.
ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five.
i'm left wide awake, wondering what the next number will be before i hit the negatives.
four, three, two, one.
wondering if the numbers feel fuller than i have ever been.
zero.
left drowning in the thoughts that i'm left with the company of heavy numbers and still feel alone.
YOU ARE READING
what tomorrow brings.
Poetryxvii, april. (iii). you have no voice if no one is listening. © playlist poetry h.r. : #3
