Numbers.
Over the years all I’ve known,
the slowly growing counter,
The charts and figures,
The diets and pills,
Needles and liquids,
The empty feeling after meals,
And the nights staring blankly.
Numbers growing,
Numbers growing no matter what.
Pounds or grams.
Minutes or seconds.
The numbers haunt me,
Follow me, offend me.
Numbers without voices,
Yet are still the loudest thing,
Numbers.
Seven letters, two syllables.
Numbers.
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Author:
No_one_special (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 4th, 2022 00:46
- Comment from author about the poem: My last poem was about words, this time it’s about numbers. I’ve never liked numbers. I’ve always been bad at math, always gained weight faster than my siblings, my doses always higher than what they would give a child, it gets exhausting. But I guess that’s just life.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 34
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments2
(a great write
thanks for sharing and inspiring
my little scribbled reply)
they say Maths, is what governs
our universe..
I think, it is Math
that warps and shrinks, our intuitive senses
and thus, our capacity
to connect
with that ethereal, majority
of existences mysteries..
but still, while Capitalism
has our worth, reductively
being governed
by probability calculated, investment
choices;
2 plus 2 equalling 4
with be valued, more
than that instinct
that has, spontaneously ducking
without rhyme or reason
and seeing a paint brush, of chance
fly - over our head...
A hauntingly good write...mostly because it seems to be true. Great job on this!
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