Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
With my back to the ground, I like to count the stars. 1, 2, 3, My bones press heavy into the ground beneath me. 44, 45, 46 My eyes close. The image of the sky burns behind them. 150, 151, 152, The cold night air seeps between the muscle and bone of my arms and legs, separating the flesh from my body. 1033, 1034, 1035, My eyes won't open. My hand stills and my breath hitches, I listen to the trees sway. Crickets chirp. As I hear the world move on past me for the last time, I think to myself. There are too many stars to count.
0
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 3:20 PM UTC
ournio sma
With my back to the ground, I like to count the stars. 1, 2, 3, My bones press heavy into the ground beneath me. 44, 45, 46 My eyes close. The image of the sky burns behind them. 150, 151, 152, The cold night air seeps between the muscle and bone of my arms and legs, separating the flesh from my body. 1033, 1034, 1035, My eyes won't open. My hand stills and my breath hitches, I listen to the trees sway. Crickets chirp. As I hear the world move on past me for the last time, I think to myself. There are too many stars to count.
i love the stars :))
o_poiitstou
Written by
18/GQ/Missouri
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 3:20 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem