It’s difficult, trying to put into square measurements
Or make units and sub-units of what is felt.
Maybe quantify it using the number of papers you’ve crumpled and thrown?
Or the last cigarette you stubbed-
Or the lack of sleep, and the number of times you rubbed
your tired eyes.
The number of times you’ve skipped tiles on pavements
And fallen, with knees sore
Or tried to analyse a favourite song word-by-word
each metaphor delighting you more.
How many times you are moved to tears by separation
In books, movies and maybe for real
Or the times you’ve realized that change was here to stay
kind of like a package deal.
Measure it maybe by the speed at which your mind
Jumps to conclusions.
How quick you are to percieve- to go through information with a fine-toothed comb.
Or you just let it be.
You run out of patience, trying to count the rings
On the trunk of an ancient tree.