First she looked beautiful... a single number... written easily

Then we started talking... addition... one to the top... another to the height

I thought I began to understand her... multiplication... seen through... though not entirely there

I fell in love with her... lines and points... simple... just beauty

And she loved me back... got good results... the blessed me

We became a thing... 1+1... I love you

Suddenly she changed... geometry... to the east

Became complex... algebra... find x... find me

I tried so hard to understand her again... Function... the function of her... me

Too complex... logarithm... to the base she ducked... me parabolic

And she started pulling away... integration... irrational

She told me it was over... calculus... I still miss you... pusssss

We broke up... 1+1... I hate you

With no kids that we dreamt of.... became a dropout... me

Every time I see her she looks like... math... every string of her unreachable... the forbidden fruit... and even the blessed Adam couldn’t swallow her

things get subtracted from my life

-------------------------------------

but then they're added back in

++++++++++++++++++++

it's a complicated equation

multiplication cancelling out division

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

people leave and people stay

giving and taking

i live and i love and i lose

but in the end

it's all just numbers

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

and then i start again

They always use X

Why? Is it a mix?

Math is supposed to be logical

But this is illogical

Mix of unknown

The reason unknown

But math is math

We have to follow this path

There's no way of getting out of it

Yes, maybe I doubted it

But math really is only for the brain

Oh look, here comes the rain

But why? Why do they use X?

Just like a slope their love rises,

But just like y needs an ex

She still reads his texts

The slope starts to waver facing the other way

She couldn't make him stay

Y do love and Algebra have to b so hard on her?

And their initials carved in a tree,

M and B

My shoulders are feeling hunched,

Like a number, I’ve been crunched.

This is greater than a one

Of my problems I’d begun.

I have fear of metaphor.

I confuse what numbers are.

My fear’s greater than it ought.

It’s not less than something naught.

I am thinking some are big,

Others mid, some galactic.

I think numbers can be fine.

Some are small, as a half-pint.

What I’m really scared about

Is a big, disturbing lout,

Seven must be large! It’s said

Seven, eight, nine, I have dread.

Then I heard a teacher say

Numbers don’t have size, “What? Hey!”

Yet infinities can be

Large or small infinity.

Numbers can’t live without us.

They’re there in our unconscious.