My days are nightmares.

My nights are hell.

I fight my demons.

I hide in my shell.

I pull up my covers.

I try to sleep.

I think of past lovers

as loneliness creeps

and my body grows older

and slowly decays.

I push my boulder

through Sisyphus days.

My body crumbles

from lack of use.

I cry and mumble

these shadow blues.

I feel so unnecessary,

so discarded, so dead.

I lie in my mortuary

in a coffin of lead.

I’ll know no peace,

only chaos and strife.

I wait for the beast

to end this life.

To those of the world who are fixed on following fate:

Built in the likeness of triangles—forced to trek upon rigid paths

Given only seven choices or means by which to follow:

Equiangular and equilateral folk are doomed to the same fate:

Each of them stuck to their predictable, never-ending, equally disappointing three-point cycle

Scalene individuals are destined to have constant unknowns and drama

Plagued by fear and uncertainty, they are careful in their ways

Obtuse people have the ability to view the world through a wide lens

They have an otherworldly ability to understand and comfort the world around them, harnessing the power of compassion

Acute beings are bound to remain limited in life

Introverts, creatures of habit, or self-absorbed jerks— never brave enough to explore; they tremble on the site of another person’s opinion

Right-angled people always have a solution to their problems

A proper, logical, and just answer to RIGHT the wrongs of life; they make decisions for the whole of mankind

Finally, isosceles society: the standard issue beings who try to do their very best, yet always seem to mess it up somehow

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Just a silly little piece I did for 5pts of extra credit for my geometry class, thought y'all would enjoy it :)

Her antennae were long and beautiful, like slender branches from a willow tree, and her thorax was unlike any he had ever seen -- it was the color of amber, as if a drop of honey had formed into the shape of a perfect linepithema.

As Charles looked up from the crumb he was dragging, his fellow worker ants clicked their mandibles in a certain way, the message was clear, Bro, she’s not in your league.

In fact she wasn’t even the same species, she was Argentine and he was Fire, but he didn’t care. Her eyes were mysterious, like pools of red wine he could dive into. Her name was Angelica.

"Angelica" he whispered under his breath. Even the sound of her name made him weak in all six knees. He stopped pretending to work and dropped the crumb to stare at her in the distance. He didn’t care if the other colony would tear him apart, he knew they were destined to be together.

"One day, Angelica. One day you will be mine".

i haven't hit rock bottom yet;

don't think i ever will.

because it's impossible to hit something

that isn't corporeal.

my heart is a vast pit

a drain down an endless pipe

i keep swallowing my feelings,

trying to fill myself up

but the pipe keeps going and going,

never clogging,

no matter how thick

my emotions are.

i haven't hit rock bottom yet

so in conclusion,

i cannot crawl.

i cannot hoist myself back up,

all i can do is fall.

my heart is a bottomless pit

dull as the grey sands of time.

an hourglass with no bottom

just descending

into the grime.

once i tried to crawl down the pipe;

i didn't get very far.

i got stuck a few steps in,

and was unable to return.

i keep starving,

losing weight

hoping that on one of these dates

i'll be able to advance

and find out what's at the end

of this bottomless expanse.

bot for now

my heart is empty

and that's a good thing, too.

because if i did have any feelings here,

they wouldn't be able to get through.

cause my body's here blocking the way,

never making a path,

i'd drown in every emotion.

my corpse would rot

and i'd finally be skinny enough

to find the end of this hellish slot

and my bones would float

down the pipe

like a raft.

i'd find out what's been eating my feelings

greedily licking them away

swallowing them endlessly,

always hungry.

but maybe all along

the one swallowing them is me

pushing them down because really i know

when they come up,

i won't like what i see.

my heart is a bottomless pit,

it takes more than love to fill me up.

and the only thing that seems to work

is piles upon piles of self loathing.

it doesn't taste very good when i swallow

but some days it clogs up the pipes.

and then, amidst

the taste of shit

i can taste the smallest hint of lemon.

lemon, like the tree in my old backyard

from childhood past where i cared not

about who i was.

i can taste the chocolate from the cake

my mother baked for me.

i can taste a million beautiful things,

for just a moment

before the shit stops

clogging the pipes

and emptiness returns.

as it always does.

so i keep

choking on self-hate

hoping that i'll get a taste

of memories long past.

but lately,

even that's stopped too,

even my hate has grown numb.

what will i do

when this bottomless pit

has eaten up every ounce of caring i have,

fat off of my feelings,

and i'm left here,

starving myself

to feed it

hoping that one day,

i'll get scraps in return?

how can i fight

an endless entity

when i'm just a skinny sack of bones

without enough to eat?

maybe if i

vomit it back up

i'll be able to taste the feelings

before they're down the pipe again.