Maybe I am a robot, no really, hear me out.
Perhaps all this time I’ve always known
that in existence there was room to doubt
this fleshy simulation, I call my own.
What if, to fulfil my dreadful curiosity,
I tear away my soft and pudgy outer shell
to find a mesh of moving parts and circuitry
instead of living, breathing cells.
Maybe I’d shed a tear at the realisation,
With a hint of shock, horror and/or dismay.
One moment calm, then launched into frustration .
All quite possible, but I couldn’t really say.
I just hope that you’d
still love me -
anyways...
Composed thinking about You
