Counting Steps

the dog woke me up with an obedient whine. i stumbled through my dark apartment avoiding the obstacles like a blind person.. counting steps. in the pitch of blue and ghosty light i found my used winter coat.. my most recent proof that i am, in fact, easy to please. i slid my hands into it's well made pockets and took mabel outside. i felt whole, constructed of bone and blood and flesh.. the science of God. but also the mystery of God.. i was my soul filling a human container, holding it up, moving it forward. as the dog pissed, as the stars were fading, as the memory of how much i have hurt someone burned in my empty stomach, as i stood alone with no warm man stirring in my bed and my bones deformed and the metal in my back frozen from the cold november.. i found the words "i'm so strong," shivering on my tongue...

i'm counting steps until the light is back.. in the blind faith of morning.