deepundergroundpoetry.com
Count
When you get in a relationship,
Your life becomes dictated by numbers.
You start counting the times the sun rises and sets.
You start calculating holidays like they’re geometry equations
And stars become multiplication tables
That you haven’t learned yet.
The date that you reply with “yes”
Becomes a code to unlock a safe of either pleasure or pain.
I’ve never been good at probability
And I hate math.
So what makes you think that I’m ready to be
The formula that solves your equation
When I can’t even remember y=mx+b?
I’m terrified.
I’m terrified of failing.
I’m terrified that the calculator I always carry around with me
Will have dead batteries.
Then I’ll be forced to use my own mind
And I’ve never been good at that.
Your life becomes dictated by numbers.
You start counting the times the sun rises and sets.
You start calculating holidays like they’re geometry equations
And stars become multiplication tables
That you haven’t learned yet.
The date that you reply with “yes”
Becomes a code to unlock a safe of either pleasure or pain.
I’ve never been good at probability
And I hate math.
So what makes you think that I’m ready to be
The formula that solves your equation
When I can’t even remember y=mx+b?
I’m terrified.
I’m terrified of failing.
I’m terrified that the calculator I always carry around with me
Will have dead batteries.
Then I’ll be forced to use my own mind
And I’ve never been good at that.
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