Count It, Don't Count

Scoreboard lies.
Body keeps receipts.
One screen bright.
One street red.
Kid sees points.
I see dead.
Count it.
Don't count.
Count it.
Don't count.
Don't count.
Game calls streak.
Crowd calls clip.
Ground calls mother
with a shaking lip.
Numbers rise.
Bodies drop.
Points get loud.
Conscience knocks.
Killstreak flash.
Screen goes gold.
Real life quiet.
Dirt turns cold.
No medal music.
No clean pride.
Just another ghost
on the other side.
Rain hits mask.
Sirens bend.
Black roof watches
where the gutters end.
Bad men run.
Bad men fall.
City don't clap.
It remembers all.
Count it.
Don't count.
Count it.
Don't count.
Score goes up.
Soul goes down.
Count it.
Don't count.
Clip sync hit.
Comments roar.
Kid says beast.
I say war.
Every clean shot
got dirt beneath.
Every hard breath
got someone's grief.
No respawn.
No retry.
No blue flash
when the body lies.
No laugh track.
No loot drop.
Just wet pavement
and a pulse that stops.
I got rage
with a locked jaw.
I got calm
like a kill switch raw.
I got ghosts
where the medals rot.
I don't count them.
But I don't forgot.
Not dangerous.
Weaponized.
Cold dead calm
when the fear gets wide.
No celebration.
No crown.
No laugh.
Just receipts
in a body bag math.
They made death
look like lights.
They made blood
look like likes.
I know better.
I breathe slower.
The streak ain't glory.
It gets lower.
Count it.
Don't count.
Count it.
Don't count.
Score goes up.
Soul goes down.
Count it.
Don't count.
Scope glass wet.
Roofline slick.
Heartbeat flat.
Tick.
Tick.
Click.
One bad shape
in a neon lane.
One clean breath
through dirty rain.
Index gone white.
Still pulls clean.
Frostbit nerve
on a black machine.
Tongue split sharp
on a broken edge.
Copper taste
when I ride that ledge.
I could go wild.
I could go red.
I could stack names
in the back
of my head.
But that is hunger.
That is rot.
That is how men
become what they shot.
So I stay low.
So I stay true.
So I watch first.
Then I cut through.
One life rule.
One line kept.
One more weight
that never slept.
The game rewards it.
The ground records it.
The suit ignores it.
The body stores it.
No cheer.
No charm.
No streak.
Just harm.
Don't count.
Mind runs numbers
I don't ask for.
Angles bloom
through every door.
Threat map burns
behind my eyes.
Red dots crawl
where silence lies.
One man moves.
One man waits.
One man counts
the exit gates.
One man wants
the whole night fed.
One man says,
Keep the tether.
Kill the comfort.
Aim better.
Calm cool mind.
Metal weather.
If the streak comes,
it comes with debt.
Every ghost
takes interest.
No clown smile.
No villain throne.
No cape shadow
gets to make it clean.
Just rain,
breath,
and a hard line drawn.
One life spent.
No respawn.
Count it.
Don't count.
Count it.
Don't count.
Score goes up.
Soul goes down.
Count it.
Don't count.
Count it.
Don't count.
Count it.
Don't count.
No save file.
No clean crown.
Count it.
Don't count.
Scoreboard lies.
Body keeps receipts.
One screen bright.
One street red.
Kid sees points.
I see dead.
Count it.
Don't count.
One life.
No respawn.