I Hate Counting
Categories Poetry

I Hate Counting

I found myself counting
and that was the time
I realized —
I didn’t mind.
I didn’t mind the lost hours,
minutes,
seconds.
All I do is watch —
as these turned into
days,
weeks,
and months.
I didn’t mind losing sleep,
I was in too deep
as I count the times
you laugh
or snore
on the other line.
I didn’t mind
not having you
because I know
at the very least —
I love you
from the moment
I started counting.
Ten months
and I didn’t mind
us going in circles
and circles —
going in whirls.
You —
not loving me
and me —
relentless,
believing.

That I could crack
that one egg
I could make
parallel lines meet
I could perhaps
maybe —
make you love me
in the end
until I finally
lost count.