Stretch...
Snap!
Elastic flap
They don’t understand,
This flesh is made of marvelous bubblegum

Tic-tic
Tension,
scratch and lick
Trichotillomania turned titillation

They’ve come to learn to like it rough

-Tock-
-Tock-
Impale her with that wretched rubber ---

Couldn’t seem to accept her...
          Ostracized in her own god-given home
                     Chastised for sins she never did commit
                               **** her

Just maybe,
In time she’ll learn to like it too

How do we know when to get off this merry-go-round, you and I
Spinning and spiraling till we dizzy and drop
We are monsters in our own right, but I suppose it must take one to spot one
Wolves in sheep’s clothing...
Isn’t that true of anyone?

To what degree do we all reek of sin?
To what degree must we struggle to overcome our cruel nature?
And to what degree must we repent?

It seems as though I do not make the cut
But what of you then?
You’re certainly no angel
We crawl to these depths together because we know no one else could follow us here
We peel each other's pitiful masks to expose the cowering demon beneath
Only we can indulge in such a spectacular sight
For we bring about the worst in each other
Mirrors of our weaknesses
We can’t look away
It’s exhilarating, terrifying, numbing, comforting
How could you see our union as anything but destiny
Anti-soulmates...
Will we ever truly escape each other?

If you were to discover
That your dearest lover
Was nothing more than a robotic cover
Would you be horrified that you were so keen
In adoration for a machine?
Perhaps you would feel a little cheated.
But I think you are being slightly conceited
You never noticed they were an imitation,
Why then, do think of them as some kind of violation?
Obviously you find yourself to be superior.
Is it because they are just nuts and bolts past their exterior?
Think a little deeper,
Is material really what makes them cheaper?
I have a pretty strong notion
That your problem lies with the fact they possess “artificial” emotion.
Oh, do explain!
What is it that gives you the impression a brain,
A collection of chemical and vein,
Is not giving you a fabricated sensation,
Much like the one experienced by the imitation.
Now do you see how absurd it is to decide that what we “feel”
Is somehow much more “real”?