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if healing was a graph 
it would be a sine wave oscillation:
f of x equals sine of x over x
(adjusted for the period of mourning and the phase of grief)

highs and lows attempting to stabilize on the x

and towards infinity the moods become normal,

or maybe, in terms of more mathematics, less extreme

it’s hard to tell between them these days

the phrase ‘rollercoaster’ is only semi-appropriate;

some days are so good that i wake up and the entire earth greets me

some days are so low that i would like to greet my x axis at infinity

none of this is as exhilarating as six flags

a point has no definite length, area, or volume

i feel i have no definite length, area, or volume

the set of real numbers excludes me 

and i am outside euclidean reach

at this point, this point would like to rest

i would like a truck stop on my 2d plane,

a crude sketch on coordinates would suffice

a nice bench to watch where the road moves through the trees
and where my x axis stretches into the future, without me

12 Feb 18

(define the words in this poem)
(1 more poem by this author)

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I am actually going through this exact experience myself and I felt this very deeply. Beautifully written and well said. In fact.. thank you.
 — frank2