Present tense,

Grinding against the self,

Putting your old fear on the shelf.

If this is noise, what kind would it be?

Struggling to come up with the words,

Yet you form them for me?

I can sit back but not relax,

You are the One that created

The Syntax.

Can I form words,

Or numbers?

Yet counting you call

Is your plan, was, will be,

Books opened,

Open,

Will open.

Numbers and transgressions.

We are the ones you count,

And track and gather around you.