My organs, heart and spleen
have the metal feel of machines
If I were to cut in half
and part my hand into flesh and tissue


Would I feel the beating?
Ticking, perhaps, mechanical clicks
I am just a cog in this machinery anyway

An institutional drone
following what I'm told
this ******* cycle
and I've turned cold,

an orbiting moon,
I want to detach,
I would, I should,
but the spinning,
out into nothing
the bleak idea of
no gravity
is that what keeps me here?