Counting On

Been granted a forward face
Each cell is selling well against my debt;
My anatomy quantified
And technically invested in a long-run

But I can barely feel my body’s eyes;
Can rarely set myself to sleep
As a realized person
And not some half-gone thing

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I Can’t

My words used to reassure you
Easily, if imperfectly

You never used to feel the need
To read my eyes in the morning,
Check my pulse whenever you wake
And find me sleeping a bit too quietly

The looks you give me now that say
You’re scared I won’t be here tomorrow
Are changing into ones that say
You want to leave instead of fear

And the pulse of needless guilt
That keeps you here is dying fast,
And when it does, your words will come
So quietly, and easily, and perfectly,
I almost want to say them for you

Different

I’m awake and older
Feeling so much younger than
Four years of changing

And I’m steady
More secure than sanity
Has any right to make me

And I’m happy
Happy for the baby
So alone and breaking

When my eyes would scare me
And my hands were self-inflicting

Four years older
Starting over with a mind
That isn’t screaming

When I’m sleeping
I don’t beg the night to take me