I must have watched a hundred stars speed across the sky that night;
calmly sniffing at the wafting , fragrant smoke.
I must have smirked to myself a dozen times at the uncertainty,
the paralytic existence that recollections and realizations left me in.
These concrete walls of nothingness and overwhelmingness have me ricocheting.
There is only so much of this that I can take,
or so I have been telling myself for a decade.
In futile attempts of blurting out the emptiness, I must have heaved a thousand times;
squeezed my eyes shut, cradled my ribs,
that night and every night after that.
Will you walk along the beach with me?
With the surf, these tides , the breeze and the sand , gently touching your soul.
Tell me, if you could visualize them,
would this lifetime of memories and reflections of yours be enclosed in an ornate chest,
would they be coral shells , pearls , crystals that you stumbled upon and found , searched and excavated, some of a lesser significance albeit;
perhaps a gloomier section too , with
thorns , rags , dark pebbles ?
But you would have a treasure alright.
I fear that mine only houses jagged salvages.
Did I trip over and drop it somewhere?
Did I break it somehow?
That’s okay, I guess.
I can still watch the stars race each other.
This time, I promise that I’ll count.