The beat the momentum
of my heart
their urgently ringing conversations.

My mind empty as vacuum
yet brimming
with fears and unsolvable problems.

This machine is not who me
as humans
we all have our own certain limits.

People never remember history
choose not to
they keep pushing though i'm broken.

They never seem to realise even
when i'm long gone.

My heart is an animal
Stuck in its rib cage
Thrashing at the bars
Till i break a bone
My insides come out
As they penetrate the skin
This hatred and rage
Has left me cracked and alone  

My brain is a time bomb connected to my heart                                
Barbed wires like life lines
Keep me from falling apart        
Everything left of me, all i ever knew
Nothing but a memory since the time bomb blew

I am a apparition in a picture,
The soul in an automaton,
a machine with a heart,
a reminiscence that fantasized it was human.

The Machine parts in me have rusted
I am all creaking metal fatigue
And slowly splintering glass
I am not indestructible
I am not build to withstand
The storms I have weathered
But I have survived them
Maybe a little less intact
Than I was before
And each one wears down
Each part of me a little more
There are no spare parts here
And when one wears out
You have to learn
To live without it
Until you are nothing but
Jangling bits inside a
Worn down shell
A barely functioning
Version of what you
Once were
But then again you have
More storms to weather
Than you could know
After all,
They don’t make them
Like you anymore.

The times are so normal and peaceful.

A yellow leaf can fall freely to the earth

without any obstructions and die peacefully.

Rivers flow at their will: sometimes calm
         sometimes furious.

Everything is perfect, following a masterful design

They invented a machine to keep peace and order

The machine wiped out chaos and dissent form the world


The machine pushes the misfits into under ground

Look around you: there is no one with a scarred face

A world so perfect

The machine emits a sound while it works:

An army of iron boots stomping the ground

And the machine's sound mutes all other voices

All other music

And a perfect world is born.

Now, the machine is turned on

I hear the sound of iron boots

They march ahead....

"I once thought I had mono for an entire year. It turned out I was just really bored."--Wayne Campbell, *Wayne's World

Pass this
        night un-
*******
                                            wingnuts­.
Opened
        casing
showing
                                 ­            my guts.

Fragmented seconds ticking, slipping
through the widening span
                                     of these small hands.
I've unlocked                         my innards
and the truth is out: it's mostly rusting gears.
I've wound down.                 I've ground up
days and weeks, upended months,
spilled crumbs
                         of my years
on pages, aging fast.
The faces show it's late,
                                        so late.

Time's up.
          Trickling
out of
                                        habits
Gutter
        ­   nights are
washing
                                         ashes
Into
                 Yawning
                                              Faces
fille­d up
                  with questions
                                              falling
f­rom the corners of
their weary, sunburnt eyes.

I'll tick off one more weekend, crossing
panels off a page.
                               Discard a month.
They've opened                    the archives
and the story's old, the golden paper cracks.
The faces,                               blank pages,
rifle past through volumes' deaf--
--'ning greys.
                        Intentions
forgotten, filtered through
the seasons' blurring hum.

                                              It's so late.

October eyes,
were not eyes at all.
they were spinning gears, and cold steel
disguised in chocolate orbs.

October Eyes said it all,
Though not a single meaningful word
was uttered
through your lips for weeks.

October Eyes screeched
"Remove that thing at once! She is a cog in the assembly line!"

And that's just what you did.

You became the machine others expected.

And i became the scrap heap.

I have these parts that are missing
They are things I can't replace
I've been stripped of all my being and thrown into a world of waste

Reprogrammed to think my world is you
That the earth I walk on is blessed by you
The bonds I break are all for you
Loving you is all I do

I close my metallic eyes
Set in place by your hands
Laying on the carpet
With my back made of rubber bands
I cry too long and start to rust
Because I love you, you have my trust
It's why I became your killing machine
You don't love me, so it seems