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xandra 12h
the stinging settles and my heart becomes heavier,
with new lines on my soul that were probably ******* inevitable.
~when did i develop an affinity for odd numbers
to cross the earth,
you'd need to travel
over 24,901 miles.

there are over
7,800,000,000 humans
in 193 countries
on 7 continents.

the average person meets
less than 80,000 people
during their lifetime.

statistically speaking,
you will meet less than
0.001% of the people
walking this planet.



I've always had trouble
believing in the things
that we cannot prove.

from mythical creatures
to certain phenomena to
bible stories and religion,

faith is something that
I can't seem to find.



but statistically speaking,
we should have never met.

statistically, we should still be
two strangers living our lives
thousands of miles apart.



right now, I am looking
over at you and realizing
just how ******* lucky I am.

there are over
7,800,000,000 humans
in 193 countries
on 7 continents.

yet somehow, we defied
those statistics and
we found each other.



maybe I won't ever
believe in religion
or phenomena or fate,

but I do believe that
sometimes miracles happen

and the most unexpected
feelings can become reality.



I believe that love
and happiness do exist,
and I believe that
all because of you.

this world is not
as bad as it may seem.

hope is not as dim
as it may appear.



sometimes, statistics
don't matter at all

and life gets better
even if you didn't
think that it could.

I believe that now,
and you are my proof.
Maria Mitea Nov 8
When obscurity disguises itself in distinct knowledge,
And ignorance claims to be adequate intelligence,
Confusion conveniently establishing as the norm,
Excluding any possibility of contradiction, ...
Right at the contour,

Decorative canyons of dire, descending ornaments,

Occluded with mixed smoke signals.

Those heading to their number beds,

Pray to the analytical gods,

"Dear Lord, bell curve distribution. Please, please, please..."
The first Apple seed
I planted
inside hu(wo)man's (h)earth

There is just one of me,
I'm not like t(w)oo many farmers
Whom after the first
Plants every second

Let's say,
I have been grooming
the same t(h)ree ye(ar)s!
And I'm like
Still here (air)
In the third base hot spo(r)t;
Well, my last!

Let's make the quality
of my muse quantitative
and my verbal
reasonable.

Decode this mirror mirage
not seeing from a mirage mirror

If A P P L E
is a four letter code
Starting with the fourth

And ended with the fifth.
Complicated right?

You know what, just take five
And start again from "the first"

-Pastorlee
Musing on the muse and how long we've been musing
I set you up with the fire
And as well give the *******
Can you decode? Let Me know
Summer Oct 22
numbers & figures are
nothing more than a flicker
of the winter chimney's smoky snicker;
fleeting as the sad beggar's liquor &
grandmother's empty wicker
chair, rocking with the gentle gale
breezing past rootless weeds
to settle on the frozen well —
Farewell, numbers & figures.
Sometimes I think I'm too fixated on numbers & figures, so this is a poem to remind myself not to be so caught up with them because 1. they do not define me and 2. they are as fickle as a breeze, might as well stop caring so much on fleeting things.
Lunar Oct 19
I could never count
the three words
for you.

It was always
just one, two, or four.
"Us," "What if,"
And "What could have been."
I don't know how to spell it, but I know how to spell your name.

(j.m.)
Poetic T Sep 20
We spend to many fractions


taking away or adding up the
                              meaning.

Times are incomplete,
          but we must always
divide every moment so that

everything adds up to the equal
                         breath that we aren't

in control.


But we are but numbers,

                in an equation of now.
Stella Sep 9
SAT
AP
ACT
PSAT
IB
GPA
GRADES GALORE
GRADES GALORE

Everything revolves around a number.
My tiny height.
My average weight.
The very day I was born.
My minuscule SAT/ACT score.
The multitudes of AP credits.
My hefty GPA.
The numbers will never leave me.
Constantly graded on a scale.
Never good enough to pass.

None of it.
None of it.
Doesn't matter how I do,
My grades are always defining me,
Leaving me tired and blue.
An 80's not satisfactory.
90 is okay.
I cannot stop pushing myself with all the stress,
I have to pass, okay?
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