is full of nonsense:

summing up my parts,
contradiction is the quotient
and the remainder is a hole
I fail to fill

my thoughts don’t add up;
questions make fractions
that multiply themselves
of their own will

regret is the exponent
when decision is the base
and even the best results
are some digits out of place

We are like skew lines

We are not parallel

But we can't intersect as well

The thought of death, it pushes me harder
Because overworked bodies don't last longer
This equation backfired because now I'm stronger
Now I'll have to experience the pain for much longer.

'K'

In every mathematical equation,
          present by any means;
A constant yet it constantly changes
          from chemical reactions showing how compounds dissociate
          to Hooke's Law of Elasticity, stiffness it describes.

"K."

Just like that I know we'll part,
          our equilibrium shifts to the left;
Going back to what we once were,
          barely acknowledging each other's existence,
          strangers passing by; hesitant, stiffly saying hello.

Tell me where do I look
for the value I lost
when K became constant,
constantly we changed.

In nature
trees grow
as wide as the
roots will
allow.

At a point,
science must
surpass nature
or risk becoming
a 'nature' -unto itself.

I love my maths...
And I do my poetry...
Inborn is the art...
Reborn is the goemetry...

When my lines are void of profection
I get to balance the equation
What a joy I get in providing solution
With my rhythm and its variations

My love for art is to infinity
Playing around with numbers is divinity
And when I get confused in the mapping
I resolve back to my writings.