When we were young
we learned how to count:
one, two, three…
counting until we run out of fingers
and we continue with our toes.
We continue with the books we read
the crayons we colored with
the forts we built
with the scraped knees
and the grazed elbows
and with the shooting stars
that continue to kiss the night sky.
Soon we started counting the seconds
the full moons
the cups of coffee
the heartbreaks
and the hours spent poring over textbooks
instead of fairytales.
Hours turned to days
turned to months
turned to years
instead of counting the days left
count the minutes you’ve spent breathing
count the laughter instead of tears
count the blessings instead of failures
count the friends instead of enemies
count the stars,
as impossible as it may be.
one, two, three…
counting until we run out of fingers
and we continue with our toes.
We continue with the books we read
the crayons we colored with
the forts we built
with the scraped knees
and the grazed elbows
and with the shooting stars
that continue to kiss the night sky.
Soon we started counting the seconds
the full moons
the cups of coffee
the heartbreaks
and the hours spent poring over textbooks
instead of fairytales.
Hours turned to days
turned to months
turned to years
instead of counting the days left
count the minutes you’ve spent breathing
count the laughter instead of tears
count the blessings instead of failures
count the friends instead of enemies
count the stars,
as impossible as it may be.
______________________________________________________________
Chalina Pilapil is a sophomore AB Literature
(English) major. She prefers tea over coffee, novels over textbooks. Fangirling
is one of her favorite pastimes.
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