Number your breaths, but don't count them.

Number your breaths,
But don't count them.

Keep your eyes closed,
Until the ghosts tickle your lids.

Until the memories sprinkle into your brains and shake off the dust lathered on the temporal lobe reawakening senses you had long forgotten about.

That's when you can open your eyes, and that's when you should open your eyes.
When your eyes open, tell me what you see.

But I must warn you, when you open your eyes, you will not be able to be who you once were.

Yes, that is a scary thing.
No, it is not a bad thing.

You see, I think you'll actually realize you've been changing for awhile now.

You just notice it more when you open up your eyes and unpack your memories where the ghost people dance to songs that you used to like and you realize you have forgotten all the lyrics you once knew all the words to.

Number your breaths,
But don't count them.

Because, my dear, they are far too numerous to count.

Close the boxes when you're ready to close your eyes and sleep off the memories tugging on the purple underneath your eyes.

Close your eyes when you're ready to open them when daylight strikes and when you're ready to live again so that when the ghosts tickle your eyelids in the future and the memories sprinkle into your brain and the dust is shaken and the ghost people dance, you will see a bigger change in you and realize the box of memories have become bigger than the refrigerator box rockets you used to fly in as a kid and you will smile and you will cry and you will number your breaths but you won't count them.