Imagine my wires were exposed

Tiny metal fibers shining from my soles.

Bleeding from my fingernails 

I have cut my cuticles past their bionic cores.

Leaving sores swelling up my flanges;

Sores that bite my toes with 9 watt voltage shocks.

Scoring holes in my piping, 

I hobble. 

A humble human I stumble

But when my hips are titanium and my nerves are made of steel, I can strut in automation,

Lifting my cheeks and knees in animation. 

Except my wires are worn, tearing, and torn. 

I must be stripped, cut and soldered. 

I must splice the split ends to cauterize my wounds.


Would I ever be fixed? 

Could I ever mend me?


I could rip the transistors from my muscles and the motherboard from my skull. Reach for a razor sliver of hope and cut smooth my jagged iron edges, shaving away the clouds of jarring headaches that corrode the inner compounds of my mind. 

Brains can exist as transistors and diodes,

The body is warped with circuitry. 

But my nerves are coiled copper,

not conducive nor conducting 

Not responding to the turmoil.

I simply sit here 



Wondering how much time.

How much time before my machinehead 

just breaks down and dies?

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