CannotLoveInPrime.exe

A sort-of love poem? Crushing, maybe— I previously thought I was aromantic. There's a glitch in the system now.

[[CannotLoveInPrime.exe] |>**ERROR**<|].

[2] [3] [5]

[7] [11] and [on the seventeenth of August, 

              I told a girl I liked her hair.]

[2] [3] [5]

 8 and [I told a girl 

        I liked her hair.]

[2] [3]  [5]

[7] [11] [13]

[17] and [casual eight burnishes to golden seven 

  as I slash through electric blue spots 

                 still sizzling across my vision.]

[2] [3] [5] 

[7] [11] and [it took twenty-one days 

              to realize I was, maybe, 

              crushing, just a little.] 

[2]  [3]  [5]

[7]  [11] [13]

[17] [19] [23]

[29] [31] [37] 

[41] [43] [47] 

[53] and [seven and three braid themselves into obsession 

          and I can’t help but laugh until I realize they’re so 

          utterly wrapped up in eachother they’ve entangled 

          my ankles and suddenly I’m tripping tumbling to the 

          floor and my head snaps up with a deafening crack 

          but all I do is sigh and lie there as I gaze at godly blue.]

[2] [3] [5]

[7] [11] and [at fifty-eight days 

              I’m realizing, maybe, 

              it’s more than a little.]

[2] [3] [5] 

[61]

[and it’s-

[[8] |>**ERROR**<|].

[[21] |>**ERROR**<|].

[[58] |>**ERROR**<|].

// please

// stop

/*  and why can’t this why won’t this fit into any of my [7] [13] [17] boxes 

    it’s [2], two, too much [2] and [29] and of course they don’t match can’t 

    match they’re incorrigible and incongruent and then I see sixteen and four, 

    [[16] |>**ERROR**<|] and [[4] |>**ERROR**<|], four, not three or five or three 

    but [[4] |>**ERROR**<|], FOUR, for- 

    For you I’d carry cruel eights and let that [[21] |>**ERROR**<|] wind and bind 

    and tangle itself around my legs in a muddle of indecipherable sevens and 

    desperate threes and of course of course of course the twenty-ones will always win 

    have already [[20] |>**ERROR**<|] won, 

    but these pairings are a cacophonous disengagement and I can’t understand the way 

    my heart trills when I turn and you’re there, too often shocking me with 

    two [2] (too many) inches of excruciating space, right and twice below my too tall 

    two [2] inches over your prime sixty-seven [67] */  

//[67]

[71] [73] 

[79] [83] 

[89] [97]

Author's Note

October 14, 2021 at 8:02pm

Not really looking to publish this— but, I'd like to know people's thoughts.. if anyone relates, etc.

This really is vent-poetry, so, you know.. Not exactly clean or revised.
A decent amount of care went into the structure, however: catch the number patterns, esp. the word count in each bold stanza :)

Also, the format is pretty different from my usual style. I'm pretty confident it's difficult to read if you're anyone other than the person who wrote it— sorry about that one!