You watch the world go by, contempt
You need not change a thing
Warm, yet distant from the heat
Watching, unaffected and not affecting, you smile
You could watch the world burn and the heat wouldn’t touch you
You’ve already faded, you’re jaded, scars lost long ago
You’re an Orange Outsider
You’ve surrendered, yet you continue on
Watching waves crash
With a worn smile
and dulled Orange eyes
When it fades, its like a candle that ceases
to exist and so the flame was never lit..
You cherished a moment that was as
threadbare as the good reflections of us.
I look into your being and I see through
you as my heart now sees nothing within.
They say machines are built not born. By definition a machine is an apparatus using or applying mechanical power and having several parts, each with a definite function and together performing a particular task. So what separates a machine from a human? Most would say a heart, a brain, a soul. The ability to have compassion and morals. As a human what happens when all those aforementioned are lost? Think about the movie The Wizard of Oz. We have a woman, Dorothy who, in her journey, helps a lion find courage, a tin man find a heart, and a scarecrow find a brain. At the end of the movie all of which are found. Now let's play the movie in reverse. Let's say they all started off with the things they lacked and throughout the journey they lost those things that made them human. In what case would a human lose those things that make them human to begin with? Maybe disaster or love lost? Events that take place in our lives that eventually break us down to primitive beings in which we go into an autopilot state where survival is the only subconscious focus. We're hand fed drugs to help us cope, block out the bad, make up for what society thinks we lack. "Chemical imbalance". Highs that make us forget for brief periods that our lives **** and make everything more bearable. If I'm trying to put a barricade between myself and misfortune then I'm also blocking the good that is also trying to enter. I don't get butterflies around the girl I adore anymore because I'm taking medicine to help with anxiety and depression, when before that, she was one of the things that made me forget and helped me cope. She was my high. Now I have shut myself off. Anhedonia sets in. I can't feel anything. Those things that once made me human have now been lost. Thus, a machine is born.
My blood runs cold
My heart beats slow;
and I can see the world
groaning as it spins
upon the point
of a finger.
My pupils dilate
I fear it may be too late;
and trees are twisting
mouths are yawning
open to swallow
My veins contract
Life no longer intact;
so far from the horizon
and that burning bright sun
dazzling my blind
— The End —