Introducing: Wilde Taylor – Simple arithmetic


The numbers turn around in my head,

they’ve found a way to form their own language,

Meandering from one extreme to another:

12.2 at 8:46, 18.8 at 9:30, 21 and one arrow up,

Shit! Start moving!

Run, do some jumping jacks,

No! you can’t eat that treat!

Sorry sweetie, I know your friends get to eat it,

but you don’t. 

Your sugars, they’re high, they’re so fucking high,

they’re skyrocketing –

breaking walls, breaking barriers, breaking spirits –

I’ve started to dream in numbers,

we communicate, the numbers and I,

desperately I seek to understand their meaning and their story,

what is their purpose?

Is it to inform or to gut?

These numbers, building fences around my heart,

the moss and weeds creeping in and creeping up,

every vine shaping itself into 6s, 4s, 2s!, 9s, 22s!.

Math was never my strength,

but these numbers,

they’ve forced their way into my brain,

they’ve made themselves at home,

unravelling codes,

carrying crafty collages of arithmetic

wherever they go,

attaching themselves to my subconscious,

breaking barriers,

resisting recognition:

sneaky borrowers of life,

rendering the account obsolete,


Borrow from us now,

we concede, take a cool 6.5

but you’ll pay for it in spades

tomorrow morning: 18.9!

What’s the balance now?

Sorry, you’re in overdraft –

You have to work harder,

keep trying,

it’s just a numbers game, really.

Look at the algorithm and deduce a pattern,

make moves based on the arrangement.

These numbers keep spinning,

they don’t seem to care that I hate math,

I push back, repulsed by all this measurable,

analytic, computational bullshit,

They keep on trudging, forming new pathways,

resisting my resisting.

Spring forward three days, I think I’ve got a grip,

I’m doing the math, it’s adding up,

these numbers and I, we are communicating,

I’m starting to learn their language,

slowly, number by number,

reaching consensus,

making up meaning, together, as we move through

the winding roads of digits and figures –


life saving, life altering, life sucking, life hounding,


And then the truth hits.

Like a broken up puzzle,

each individual number spread out in front of me,

too many pieces to count,

too many statistics, sums, totals,

I can’t decipher all these emblems.

I’m so tired, I’m so sick and tired-

These numbers, I hear them when I go to sleep,

whispering harsh truths, scary possibilities,

never-ending combinations,

I feel them as I lay my head to rest,

fibonacci sequences floating over my skin,

These numbers and I,

for better or worse,

til death do us part,


These NUMBERS are here to stay.

Wilde Taylor is a teller of truths, a lover of lies and a crusader of light. She’s naturally drawn to the dark (could be her Transylvanian roots), but admires and aspires to the light. It is through writing that she is able to excavate her lost soul and expose it to the brightest star of all, revealing odd pieces of another time. She continues to restructure the DNA of her Elan vital. To discover more of her work, please visit her personal blog:


14 thoughts on “Introducing: Wilde Taylor – Simple arithmetic

  1. My love for this poem is unquantifiable. I could quote from it over & over..
    “They don’t seem to care that I hate math”
    “These numbers and I, for better or worse, til death do us part”

    It has Everything. Thank you for sharing your incredible work with us & for joining the team! We're very fortunate to have you here.

    Liked by 1 person

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