*** is an equation
                              it seems
And I'm your calculator

Because when I'm with you
You know all the right buttons
                                                to push
                   All the right combinations
                                                to plug in
To make me your hand-held
                                                property

Your relentless fingers
                     Unpausing
                                Pitiless
                                       Unremitting
Lacking every sense of the word
                                                  "Mercy"

Despite my begging
My programming goes against me
And I'm forced
                     to spit out the answer
That you request

So because of your brutality
It's easier to lie
                        to myself
To lie and say
That I don't want
                          to keep making equations with you

I've been in love
(or thought I was)
twice now
and I'm only
twenty years old.

I've spent my entire life
practicing the art
of letting go
and I lost track of
my losses
because I've never
been good with
numbers.

I have
added,
subtracted,
divided
and solved
my way back
to you

countless of times

and this is how
I know I am

no good at math.

A war between loving you
and forgetting about you
is harder than analyzing an equation.
Whatever method I use,
there's no such thing as "solution"
to solve the problem
that I'm feeling for you
For you've already have a special place
in my heart.

I told you I love winter,
and you thought that will change
when the cold numbs my feet
but it didn't

I told you I love vacations
and you thought that will change
when long vacations leave me unproductive
but it didn't

I told you I love you
and you thought that will change
when you break my heart
but it didn't

Loving you was like loving winter
a constant in my equation

and although I was never really great at math
I learned how to make a system of two equations

you are not a constant in my life's equation

**but you are a constant in my heart's equation

I am the equation of infinite outcome.
Why then, do the sum of my actions divide my attention from the equation itself.
Either the theory is flawed or the law is wrong.
Don't quote this quotient it isn't divisible.
It's almost as if this is an inverse operation.
The properties aren't proportional to the level of difficulty.
The answer is adjacent to one before.
The problem is,
I always get the same answer.

It doesn't make sense
You left me entangled in your lies
Without a goodbye
Only a "let's be friends"
As you jumped right in the dating pool with another girl
But somehow
No matter how much you hurt me
Part of you is kept in my soul
And part of me still wants you to come back

You're probably reading this from the same place I'm writing it
behind a desk
outside the box
trapped in a corporation
free in my thoughts

You're probably reading this for the same reason I'm writing it
because words matter
because it doesn't matter
the way everything matters

You're probably sick of reading
probably
yet we are hardly anything more than what can be proven
we're probably
the invention before probability

The loving  likelihoods of life
like crawling before walking
like falling when learning to walk
like walking into runs

The statistics of confusion
divided for the mystical equation
of adding all things make believe
subtracting all things real
and solving you for yourself

I'm such like a chemical equation.
May evening, 10 pm as the time stitch stick, I was ionized.

We were, perfectly just like Berilium and Sulfate combination did.

Slowly by time, it solved like a combustion struck by appearance of troublesome oxygen and we survived
whereas the beliefs evaporated like the hydrogen dioxide.

In the end, you won over it, finalized the equation by eliminating me both in left and right side.

Leaving me partially ionized, failed thermochemistry as the exothermic spread no waste and the enthalpy was hurt much more.