I’m counting the seconds;
For every one that passes
is a fragment of the future
which I have claimed
and committed to the past.

I’m counting the hours;
For with every chime on the hour,
I celebrate quietly that I still
live and breathe.

I’m counting the days;
For with every rise,
and every set,
takes me farther from
where I had been.

I’m now counting all the times
I’ve told myself that and scoffed.