People say you won't use the things you learn in higher math
in real life: if x is this and y is this solve for z.

But finding a lost variable is vital to social survival.
If x is how long you've been talking, and y is how interesting you are, solve for how annoyed they are at you.

You then take this answer and use it as b in the equation of your self-worth where a is your natural talent at anything and c squared is how the expression on others faces change when they see you. Then raise all of this to the power of m, which here means your economic status and solve for s or how valuable of a person you are.

But even with this answer, there is some doubt: a fear that you rounded a number wrong or dropped a negative. You think s was positive, but that could have been a mistake so you run these calculations over and over... waiting to be worthless.

The rain trickles
down the side of the house
turning the garden
into a soup
of mud and dead tomato plants
while she dances
in a yellow raincoat
and bright boots
waving at the camera
as a silvery voice promises
hot chocolate.

so i read stories and poems
and in most of them the
writer equates love
with touch
and i mean thats fine but here i am
an awkward ace person
i dont need to be caressed
but if you would get
me superman ice cream
and watch the half blood prince
with me and pass me tissues
when dumbledore dies
and ask if you can hold my hand
that would be neat

blue sky
sunshine
feeling good
life is fine

read a book
roller-skate
knit a hat
life is great

eat a snack?
think i will
what could go wrong
life is chill

now! the joy
all goes away
depressions back
and
here
to
s
t
a
y

Remember that no matter how good you are
and no matter how hard you plan,
you will fail.

Evil doesn't win kid; never has,
never will. You might plan that heist
to the last gunman but the day of,

mark my words, something will go wrong.
The hero will show up, and you
will be lucky to escape with all of your limbs.

It's a suicide mission, villainy.

So why? Why work for chaos and destruction?
Why choose death?
Why fight the system, when every effort is doomed?

Because the system has ignored me.
I am the oppressed, the broken,
the trodden on and nameless.

They hurt me,
took advantage of me,
and then called ME "monster."

How can I support something that never supported me?

I'm not trying to excuse my actions.
I am a monster, but God help me;

I will be a monster on my own terms.

Thank you for all the times that you:
provided snacks
lent me a blanket
talked me out of climbing that thing
were a shoulder to cry on
gently reminded me we had somewhere to be
told me to let go
forgot how much money i owed you
lent me your notes
put up with my moodiness
and my ungratefulness and my thoughtlessness
were just there