If I’m, like, 70% water then 30% is the empty space where you used to be

Only 60% of the water that used to make me up floods out around me

I don’t add up anymore. 

Nothing does.

This is the cruellest hand my heart has ever been dealt.

Loving you is killing me.

Not like in those bull shit films where love is beautiful and easy and achievable

But in casualty with wires and machines and people that keep us bound together no matter how much it hurts.

When I thought I was going home I’d have done it happy

I was going with knowing that I found you 

But knowing I’m going without you?

I’m not 100% of anything other than sure that was never meant to be the answer.

All the questions kept changing.

It got all complicated and foreign like algebra and I was never any good at maths.

I got a C.

For cursed or chaos or just for cunt.

Two plus one made four of us with bleeding hearts 

With futures failing to measure up to what we promised ourselves. 

I wish I knew some other way to calculate a better pressure.

I wish I knew how to add up.