A telephone wire cut.
Something's wrong inside my head.
The thing is, I don't know just what.
Red. Blinking. Lights.
A robot whose been programmed wrong,
An exposed sparking wire.
The buttons don't click all the way.
Hazardous, watch for fire.
Do not approach
This automatic switch is supposed to make me excited
This one makes a genuine smile.
Nobody notices, though, that I'm on manual control
And have been for a while.
Electricity and buttons and wires
Do not mix well with water, I think.
But because I'm in desperate need of repair
I'm in constant thirst for a drink.
"Should have bought that extended warranty."
"Did you turn it off and on again?"
No. Because it's broken.
Hard drive shorting
Lights are blinking
And I'm thinking
My last thoughts exporting
The only thing that works well anymore
Is the part that goes through the motions.
Perseverance is my constant notion
As I burn myself out on the shore.
It's hot to the touch.
Soon, it might Explode
Bruh, I don't feel like a person anymore
The worst of pessimists, covered by his own mist,
Does it really have to be like this?
He has an open mind, but his motivation’s blind
Can’t he just stand on his feet and switch the disk?
Trading his love for life for creativeness
Waking from his dreams, he wish to stay like this
Walking on his own, he has turned his records on
He knows all things will get better
He’s all right and always wrong, he knows where he has come from
But this only makes him sadder
On his path to self destruction, he is on a roll
Right or wrong, on his malfunction, he’s got no control
Moaning about his own life, for sure he won’t make things right
Does he really needs to be like this?
Why does he has to be mad, why does he wants to be sad?
Why does “he” needs to actually be “me”?
Hey! What’s going on with my computer?
It’s acting very strange.
It’s making everything seem so deranged.
I’ve never seen my computer act this way.
It’s screen is frantically pulsating,
It’s making everything seem so obfuscating.
Why is this happening?
I really do not understand.
This was definitely unplanned.
Now it’s really starting to worry me.
Perhaps i should just turn it off and go away.
I think this was enough internet for today.
p o p !
like a still
f o r
s e e n
t h i s
ction ? "
s h e
"it is the
i m a g e
d e a r
n o n e
t r u t h,"
y o u n g
m o r t a l,
d a r e s
who i am ?
she took an
at her own
i m a g e
the too pale
skin and it's
effect on her
of her own
It's a po' try.
It ain't pro--retry.
It's a poo hole.
It ain't purty.
Sinkin' lo, yo.
I'm a malfunction,
I don't fit.
Though I am merely a young girl with a wounded soul and a tattered heart, I promise that I have truly fallen in love with you--a work of art. All my life, I was afraid to make the jump with a fearless, open arm attitude. I was afraid I'd crash and burn; I was afraid to mess up your perfectly placed pieces. In all my solo act performances, never once did I think I would ever have a partner to sweep me off my feet and take me to new heights, but now, I am soaring over boundaries that were never before attainable. You've embraced me to join your assortment of colors to see which hues and shades we could create. You've written me into your melodic masterpieces to show that we are one in a world of malfunction. Hand in hand, we were molded for one another in the way our bodies shape together in statuesque perfection. Perhaps it may just be my imagination, but you--you, my love--are the stars inside of me exploding into a light show of auras and I can only hope I am the same for you.
It's the first of July; 2015
I'm still stuck in December.
My mind won't move on,
It's warranty ended there.
The last image it goes to
Is of us; or rather, you.
My body is ro-bo-tic
Going where it is told
My minds lost its charge
(Lost track of time, actually.)
It slowly regains some
Then loses it once more
Because the image of you
Or rather, us.
Makes it malfunction
*All over again.