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I exist here in my metallic husk
just barely functioning
yet I still long
to be human.
To actually live in my surroundings
instead of my hardware.
To openly communicate with no fear
instead of struggling to speak beeps.
To feel emotion freely
instead of the same notion of nothing
where I can't even cry when I try
and where I feel my happiness is the undeserved kind.
I shut myself out of the world
because robots like me cannot possibly know what it feels like to
I still try.
Gather all the information I can find:
books, movies, tv shows, music, art, social media.
Anything to let me feel what I never can.
Which is fine–
Until I realize I'm malfunctioning.
Can't process those words on the page after reading it several times.
Can't even be machine.
Too busy in my own
to notice all around.
And I robot,
attempt to trudge on.
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