I hate fate
All it's secrets
All it's uncertainty

Ask for flowers
You get weeds

Ask for love
You get regret

Ask for strength
You get weaker

Ask for patience
You waste time

I hate fate
All it's tricks
All it's games

The existence of us lied purely on conditional probability
The probability that event A will happen with the knowledge that event B has already happened
And if you asked me why I kissed you
I would tell you I liked when our probability was me over you
With your hands laying tangent to my curves

I kissed you as much as I wanted and as much as I could
If you asked me why I kissed you goodbye
Even though you were not mine
It was because time is only ever ticking away
And if I run out of time
I can’t kiss you

The probability of you calling me beautiful was a 0.25 on the qualitative spectrum
Unlikely.
But you did and your voice sounded like honey
sticking to the heartstrings in my chest,
filling in the cracks,
it was sweet

Our probability quickly shifted from me over you to 1 over 6
very likely to unlikely
and the conditional probability of you leaving seemed to take over any set equation

I saw the curve in your lips decay faster day by day
The eyes that I tried so hard to catch mine
Don’t even make the effort to look in my direction
And the honey you left in my chest turned sickly
And it’s been there so long I think I’m attracting bees

I lay my hands flat on your chest
and I am touching you because I can’t help it
because time is only ever ticking away
And I’m crying
Why am I crying?

The memories are rushing back
Your hand on my thigh in that blue dress
Your arm around me in the parking lot
I remember it was warm and you were talking to my mother

You always had the charm to make me dance
and that night I felt you in my bones

50/50 I thought we were 50/50

Now I’ve always preferred chemistry
And we felt like a combustion formula
But we were just probability and statistics
And I’ve always hated math

Smiles, tram cars, stinging eyelids
Transparent brittle shards,
Ashes finding water surface
All of this onto a palm
Locked into a fist

I’m the coin that’s landing on its rim
The odds were slim and yet
I am standing on a grin
The third side says that
Karma always wins

letters are nothing more than symbols
just lucky strokes upon a white background that project
memories, feelings, images, experiences

words, spoken words, are nothing more than just sounds
just skin touching more skin vibrating the air around it to produce
grunts, noises, sighs, screeches, music

colors that we see are nothing more than waves of electromagnetic radiation
just light bouncing off of matter to show
beauty, danger, lightness, darkness

everything in this world
You
Me
are just coincidences
just random bits of probability
infinity to one
the chances anything would happen is basically zero
everything at any point could have went wrong

yet
after half the life of eternity
i met you
i read your symbols
i heard your sounds
i saw your light

the right symbols: infinity to one
the right sounds: omega to one
the right light: aleph-null to one

but everything about you was right

and here we are
clearly an impossibility
with our chances infinitely close to zero
every second approaching zero
reaching its limit

and now here
with our chances lining up
virtually never to be
i saw you
and i fell into you

and in one reality every infinity
you fell for me too

if only i was in one of those

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

Dear Math,
I wrote this letter to let you know how I feel about you. The thing is much as you love me so much, we can never be an Item when all you do is torture my brain and break my heart.
You claim to be a linguist, yet you know none of my languages. You don't know Kiswahili neither do you know English and only speak Algebra and statistics...I loathe you for all you do is play on my mind with words like Sigma and Meu, factorial and co-factor.You claim you want to be the only one but still ask me to find your X without even telling me Y.Well, grow up and solve your own problems because I'm tired of solving them for you.Just walk out of my life forever and not temporarily like the dew. You have hurt me enough with razors of matrices, pinched me simultaneously and never asked me whether I believed in your ancient beliefs like those of Pythagoras or not. We were never meant to be. I found a new one, her name is literature and she loves me so much.I won't apologize for saying I hate you because It's unfair apologizing for saying the truth.
Yours with anger

I'd like to believe
that it will be better
than the past,
but as the they
used to say
in the teachers'
lounges
when I taught
high school:

There Is No Bottom.

mce