Count them when I feel myself growing louder. I will collect your tears. With my palms cupped under your chin. As they seep into my skin. Overflowing. I will collect them. I will count them again. Like how you collect every letter which forms into words. Like shards of broken mirrors. They cut through your thin skin but you will still Collect those scattered shiny letters. I still collect those tears, Now a light shade of red. I counted them, I kept them safe. Till each teardrop Burns me, sucks every ounce of me, Till my letters break down into Shards of mirrors. ~gingerbread