she sits miles away but you think she's right next to you
she sits in corners that make it difficult to reach
her life is a game called 'the maze' and you're in it
reach the centre of the maze and see her alone
she seems lost bewildered

you make your way to the centre (of your life)
your centre becomes eccentric as your centre moves away
she your centre sees someone else and runs towards him passionately
they leave the maze feeling victorious
together

you walked miles to see her and realize that she has walked miles to see someone else
your heart beats on every tenth step you take nearing the end of your life
the intent that she has is present but for someone who isn't
you

when we dated
i didn't know who i was
i knew who you were
and i liked it
but no matter what i told you
about me
no matter how much you
came to know
you never really
knew me
because i could never show you
who i was
since even i had
no idea

after you dumped me
i found myself
because i had the time
to focus on me
instead of us
and now i can see
that we were never really
meant to be
because i need a complement
like we are geometry
but with you
i had a congruent shape
that only sat with me
instead of making me whole

I have to remember that life does not work this way. the universe does not play toward my favor.

I have moments where I do not think at all. no information is exchanged, no neurons fire.

yet I find myself in these moods of brief clarity, a strange sort of enlightenment where I seek out my poetic justice.

I acknowledge my prophetic nature. but in the end the words have no meaning, and I am left as empty as before. I lack purpose. drive. skill. knowledge. talent.

I am a lost soul, but I take that as a romantic notion.

there is beauty in my downward spiral, because it is a geometric form, and it has been said that geometry connects man to the cosmos.

if one uses geometry as an means to produce and organize order out of chaos, we can connect to the cosmos and become one with the universe.

Prismatic light
Emanating from within
Puncturing the dark

Your birthright
Sacred geometry skin
The original spark

math plus history equals hindsight.
science plus art equals human.

I died drowning
Drowning like the rest of America
Trying to breathe under the numbers
All of them telling us that we're failures
I died drowning

It was more so a ****** than an unfortunate event
I blame society
Piling papers and statistics on teens and the to be's
We're shoved into school at the age of 3
For that I blame you

I blame you for my death
The air was extracted from my lungs
All 78% of nitrogen and 21% of oxygen

Geometry fried my brain at exactly 112 degrees
Physics pushed me off a cliff and I accelerate by 9.81 m/s
World History murdered me with every war and battle

English killed me just like every author
Band beat me to death like a drum
Weightlifting dropped 225 lbs on my throat
The play acted out all of my deaths

I didn't die just drowning
I was beaten, burned, shot, choked, mocked and everything in between.
I was murdered and I  am still living

I am here to convict the killers
They say it takes a village to raise a kid
But what does it take to **** one?

All sorrow is perpendicular occurring
at right angles of tragedy encircling
the grief-stricken with straight edges
only once intersecting across infinite planes—

Don't dare draw the lines between points
or shade the region with limits or curves
because the trajectories of bullets are plotted
on branes intolerant of slightest triangulation

Woe unto the seekers of sine waves
sobbing thinking of filling every trough
believing surely by now we've offered enough
to sate these bloodthirsty Euclidean demons

Cresting won't ever arrive in this course
filled to the brim with asymptotes, cold corollaries
but never spilling over under our sacred
pledge of allegiance to the 2nd Parallel Postulate

No intersections can be admitted with thoughts
& prayers extending outward barely co-planar
serious public policy proposals axiomatic
insistence on the Nirvana Theorem or nothing

A set of all points remains, mutually exclusive
motionless and always incongruent clueless
about their own particular geometries
awaiting radical Pythagorean salvation

Some paradigm we’ve built here though!
Two hundred years of living polygonal hand
to elliptical mouth without tangential reflection
on the unproven flatness of humanspace.