It's all just numbers, isn't it?
Day by day,
Year by year,
Always counting.

Day by day look at the number on the scales.
Let the caloric calculator count until your head is filled with numbers.

Minute by minute count the seconds it takes for him to text you back.
Let the doubt and fear multiply until your head is full of him.

Term by term let a percentage on a piece of paper define your worth.

Don't we have better things to do than count?

Dread, boredom, hate, pain.
No needles, no fixing.
Nothing to bend the pain, nothing to distract.
Swivelled in chaos.
music to distract me from it all.
Nowhere to go, nowhere to run.
Videos that only take me to escapism, but nothing more.
Confusion, the boredom consumes my entire being, there is no cure.
Dissatisfied profusely, my form to mental destruction.
Where is the light?
What do I do?

up
as a paper doll
in blouse and skirt
and knitted shawl
and it’d hurt
between the lolls
when he didn’t call

He cut me
down
as an old oak tree
with tainted words
dropped to my knees
cut me in thirds
in a fell swoop breeze

He cut me
in
the spring
as tulips bloom
cut all my heartstrings
not to resume
this threadbare fling

He cut me
out
of his life
with a pen
not a knife
and then
took a wife

A boy will say
  You deserve better
     but
A man will say
  I will make myself better to deserve you

There is beauty in time,
it makes or breaks us,
puts that mark of difference
in all of us.
Yet we can't store it ,
Even tho we can give it,
We can lose it,
Time is a limited Gift