As If Machines Could Love

Welded and cut by saws and fire, sparks fly like tiny embers lighting up the darkness as pieces of my heart fall away until there are no more. The pieces of metal and shattered porcelain that once was my heart now lie scattered across the floor. I wish to shut down the gears that propel me forward, I want them to stop, to halt. Gears so rusted they shouldn't be feasibly able to move. Amidst the chips and cracks still they turn those rusted gears. Reaching out as if something they want was placed right in front of them, something i want, something I'm searching for but will never have. and still the gears they forever rotate, always thinking they are, and yet never getting closer. how do I give to someone something I have always been without. Yet i know it so earnestly well the one thing i crave, the only three syllables i wish to hear, the very words I've always been denied.The word loveless imprinted on a rusty nameplate that hangs half off my body by a single screw. though, with these gears that lie within cogs of the wheels that never change, change becomes the only constant that remains the same' in my world of eternal loss. A world where love does not exist, where compassion is meaningless. This world as cold as the machines that dwell within, whose hearts are filled with the blackest corrosion and hate. You may call it fate but to me it's just bad programing. I reach out to you yet my arms stay at my sides, I call out to you though all i scream is silence. The only sound comes from my corroding cogs and decrepit pistons that will continue to turn and pump until they're nothing more than dust. I'd wait an eternity, but even machines inevitably fall apart. Soon the eyes I used to gaze upon you will flicker and the light will slowly die. While i sit in this dark corner I use my finger to trace the cracks in my outer porcelain shell glancing up ever so slightly from time to time to stare at the only star that shines through my window, its name is love, i named it after you. So, please find me before my gears stop. Before i am swallowed by the clockwork of time.

by Derek Morningstar

Comments (1)

A nice poetic imagination, Derek M. You may like to read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks