LIKE MATHEMATICS

Plummeting on whirling, twirling happenstances,
Purging away from appalling reminiscences,
Hauling out her soul from such sticky black-hole,
She needed someone to hold.

Picking, stitching her teary, weary capacitances,
An unsteady lone particle, travelling hefty distances,
Tearing herself away from her soul- like sticky charcoal,
She needed someone to hold.

And be told that she was worth.
Worthy of all the love in the world and in his heart,
Of all the pressure she carried of affection that tore her apart,
Of the warmth and loyalty till the end from the start,
That she was beautiful like mathematics, like an art.

Struggling to brace her ground on whizzing, rotating surrounding,
Losing vigor of her keens in a world insanely astounding,
Vanishing in the night darker than her kohl,
She needed someone to hold.

Kicking, pricking her ribcage becoming uninhabitable compounding.
Emerging dust and fume making her heart deeply pounding,
Her sturdy neural flux quickly turning bipole,
She needed someone to hold.

And be told that she was worth.
Worthy of all the love in the world and in his heart,
Of all the pressure she carried of affection that tore her apart,
Of the warmth and loyalty till the end from the start,
That she was beautiful like mathematics, like an art.

She was beautiful; she often tended to forget.
She didn’t need anyone to tell her that.
She was beautiful just like mathematics,
Just unsolved yet.

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– Image found on Discrete
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