counting

I count the hours and days and weeks like the passing of time is some sort of tool to make the feelings go away. i praise myself for every second that goes by without thinking about it. i list the reasons, i lay out the mistakes, i tell myself everything i need to hear to make it one more minute without breaking apart. i find replacements, i take applications, i seek new editions. i use humor and jokes and sarcasm. i use anger and hate and rage. i cling to those who always support me, i seek guidance for what i need to do. i ask questions, seek answers, want truth, need closure. i attempt new enlightenment, i look inside at old compartments. i look up for further spiritual growth. all of this and the pain is still there, all of this and i still feel so empty at times. but i will keep counting the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months. i will keep counting until i forget why i am counting to began with. 17 days, 4 hours, 26 minutes