Her house appeared ethical with walls steel and cold.
My head now sound.
My mind fled from the clear and ticked now like gears on a timely clock.
***** fixations grew non stop.

She calls without words.
She is now composed with radars that replace her heart.
I am Mother Mary's man machine.
Filthy dreams now spark.
Disturbed and distressed I scan what I've become.
I'm now hard to the touch!
I'm Mother Mary's man machine.
What vile things she has done!
Even with confusion it is the style I want.
A holy deal indeed.
Control ,***** *** ,and then delete.
She does not tease.
She just takes!
She plays well with her role.
And we both function without love.
Machines have no soul...