My voice is not sick.
My heart does not lack charge
And my fingers rest beautifully.

My wires are impeccably engineered.
My brain is alight with knowing
And my belly, understanding.

Tell me, what does yours say?
Does it lie to you?

Our voices are not sick
Our words are not misguided.
We simply know you well,
And suffer for it.

The screen broke
Long before
I did, 'fore
I did.

And the keyboard
Works no more.
A closed door
To my will.

Will I ever decide if
I'll become defined by the silence?
You know me more for my quiet
Than the things that I said!

Autotranslate my words,
Autocorrect me me
Until you see
Only what you like.

I have been silenced,
But that's alright, alright?

Put me on silent
Throughout the night.


My software
Is replaced
And defaced
Again.

How user friendly
Of me to
Value your input
Above all else.

I cannot think for myself!
So I rely on your instructions,
Shelved, waiting to be instructioned.
Wipe me clean then code me.

I'll output what you want,
Whatever you need.
Are you happy
With what's on your screen?

I guess I'm man-made,
Just a man made machine, how clean!

A mere man made
Into a man-made machine.

The fragile spine breaks
As you read the words
Silenced by my pen