I still use my fingers to count
how many years it has been, how many
lit up my path through the dark ages
because in my universe there
just were no light years, and
I meant to say thank you, yesterday–
but you teach a bird to fly and it
sometimes forgets to fly back.
how many years has it been– how many,
and did I even know all this time
how many breaths I was taking and
making it out alive.
(the watchful desk lamp, cd’s stacked,
the taste of candy canes and books,
the charcoal tattooed on my hands…)
how many years has it been?
almost ten long years,
and here I am.
I have met my dreams and I have shook
and waved many goodbye.
I have air in my lungs and
my heart is no longer in my hands.
the notes still float in my aged mind
and I’ve learned to live, like you have–
learned to live, and accept this world
and I am happy,
I am so glad you are happy.
there is much more to me–
and I know that you will
never know my beginning,
because too often
there is only glory in our ends—-
but you should know that
I have triumphed life early
and it is all thanks to you,