The Index told me, so it's no lie-
I've lived five thousand twenty-nine lives
before this life that I'm living now,
and wow-
-how can I wrap my head around

the idea of five thousand twenty-nine lives-
five-thousand twenty-nine pairs of eyes
How many jobs, and how many steps
have I taken, ere forsaken and reborn from Death?

Is this why I'm not just the girl
who grew up and got married, never saw the world
was I bored of the quiet- did it too many times?
Is that why I live life like I'm ready to die?

The Index holds me, it keeps my time:
five thousand twenty-nine different lives
before this life that I'm living now.
Is it wrong that I feel just a little bit proud?

A lamplighter, I, in a life before.
Which cities?
Which streets?
Was I rich or poor?
What about in my lives even further back?
Which of me was the first?
...Does it work like that?

I imagine that I've lived in all places, all times
from the dawn of the world through the hard midnight
yet the world persists, and so do I
and I've got no intent to die, die, die

so

five-hundred twenty-nine different lives,
but I'm gonna have the time of my life
and dance like it's zero, for all that I care.
It doesn't really matter in the end, so there.

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 16th of Slyphian, in the year 5 AC.