To "the Force"

I keep chasing you away
And yet you keep coming back to me
I have told you we are over
But you keep clinging on.
They say I am fond of you
But I am done really
Was done long ago.
I have not learnt how to ignore.
I would rather not have you around.
You pushed me off the edge yourself.
Some do so by leaving
You did so by staying too long.
Love is too strong a word,
Like still a stronger emotion.
I am not in that circle
Unfortunately observing from within.
I will be out of it too.
And then you will know.
I had let you stay too long
I had found comfort
in the little place you left me.
Now I can't keep curled up
I need to stretch and step.
I maybe need to dance,
And I need to roll.
Jump off my own cliff
Without you giving me a hand.
I will decide which parachute to take
Or if any at all.
It is my decision to make
And you can stop rolling the ball.

Mathematics 2

A 30 cm is a foot
Where I know that 2.54 is an inch.
I know I had to be reaching a full
But still a 30 inch I simply fail.
I ask my brain if a 15 is a foot
Or maybe a 30 inch is still a foot
Mind you it was a ruler I thought
A foot was definitely a 30 in cm
But how much in an inch I fail.
I thought and thought
And there it was
Surely a 15 inch would make a foot
But I have always known it hasn't
I look for the number and then more.
Some tell me its the good old 12
And I know it sure is.
Why can't I meet the 12?
When I was always so true.
Again,
Understanding this struggle
Is in the pace-
a struggle my brain seem to face.

Mathematics 1

When 20 added to 30 can't be 40,
but at the same time it can't be 60.
A 30 minute cycle after starting at 20
Takes us to which point closer to 60
It definitely takes me away from 40.
A pace which I can't seem to pace
I thought it could be a good 70.
But that is so difficult to place.
A 70 in time would be 1:10
But yet a 20 plus 30 in time isn't.
I place the 30 after the 20
And after a grand struggle
I place the 3 after the 2
That is when I get a good old 5.
And so definitely a 30 and 20
Had to make the so difficult 50.
Understanding this struggle
Is in the pace-
a struggle my brain seem to face.

Your Own Shit 2

Your Own Shit

Still Brushing my Brain

The mystery thickens.
I forgot a very common word today.
I was known for my memory when I was a child.
Does that really mean anything?
Being horrible with dates has been my thing.
I am appalling at names;
Of people, not of things.
The plot has lasted there too long.
It buries more and more underneath the rubble.
There are people who are trying to be rescued.
Trying to stay alive on mere sweat and some flesh.
They will die soon.
The rubble needs to be cleared.
It needs to be lifted off,
It needs to be organised.
In a largest to smallest order maybe?
A required to not required list?
A list by frequency of use?
Or simply left to be crushed;
Forming one dense cube.
Easily stored,
somewhere at the bottom shelf.
Soon names would revive.
People would be able to rebuild.
A new structure maybe?
Unknown materials?
Which in due course,
May or may-not fall down again.
To bury inhabitants in new rubble.
Cropped out of the old storage.
Or a pile on from days to come.
Crisis would keep them afloat.
For activity to inactivity, is a state of bliss.
And building forth, a ray of hope.