as I lay awake
robbed by the
ghost
of you
again

I submit to
haunted daydreams
longing
river flowing
wet dreams
fairytale
facade ever
endings

& terrified
of each
corner of
the
universe
we used
to
dance.

Today,
I am a
cadaver-in-waiting.
Cold, stiff and
ashen, I am
ready for
autopsy and entropy.

How does it feel, knowing that the world long ago
figured you for a suicide?  Do you ever
get the sense that you're
disappointing your audience?

The ambiguity is ours
we mar the hours

You know "robot" means "slave",
right?  I need
to believe that you are
more than your programming, need
to believe in the
love notes you wrote me in
binary code, need to believe that there's
space between the hardware and the
software for something like
the soul, need to believe in it with
all the faith that still ebbs through my fragile,
damaged circuitry.  I need to see
you break free of
these algorithms in order to believe that
maybe
I can too.

It was
one
of those
nights

Unfamiliar,
echoes
in the
room

Pure space
four walls
******
to
my
madness.