One Two Three

One, two, three,
I am counting the days, the weeks the hours left till...
I am counting the hours I've already spent,
I am counting the number of times I've picked myself up again,
the number of projects I've seen through to the end,
the number of times I've said ENOUGH is ENOUGH along the way,
the number of times I've said just hold on for a bit the next part coming up will be better than this,
the number of times I've thought I would never want to get up again,
the number of times I've tried to hold my tongue, my heart, my mischief, without success,
the number of times that I've said whatever whatever WHATEVER in my head.

three,four, five,
I am counting the number of things on my list,
the number of friends, relatives, dreams that I might forget,
the number of books that I haven't read,
the number of A's I could possibly get,
the number of pages I've filled,
the number of ways in which I seem to want to express my being,
the number of times I've been so sure and been wrong,
the number of times that it didn't matter anyway.

six, seven, eight,
I am counting the number of seconds that it takes to stop my heart from racing once I am done counting the last of the seconds when my feet will hit the pavement running for the day,
the number of times I roll my eyes in the back of my head when another boy who's trying to impress me says something so completely stupid that it reminds me of how well your skin can hide who you are and what you think,
the number of times I take a deep breath before allowing myself to step inside a room.

nine, ten, eleven, twelve
the clock strikes again and I am not counting though I move to measured beats,
the freedom that I allow myself for a measured time to run around and be crazy.
I am counting the days the years the time that I didn't know you and didn't understand,
the limited time for which this building towards a perfect life seems to be real,
the number of ways that I feel like a new person,
the number of times I recognize that I am still somehow me as I will always want to be.

one, two, three,
I am counting the number of steps that I've taken,
the number of years I've left behind,
the number of people that have probably died while I've argued and debated and wondered why,
the number of places I may never see.

three, four, five,
I am counting...like all moments before this, this moment too shall pass,
all the things I've conquered and survived will be obsolete and all the things I have managed to ignore may not be able to sit still,
I am holding my breath everytime I come to another bend because I just don't want it all to end.

six, seven, eight....