Artificial

Poetry

My eyes won’t open
This is a surprise
Inside a freezing examination room
I’m on the central table, naked
Eyelids stitched closed, memory erased
Why am I here?
I feel how their empty faces stare at me
Eyes scan through, I am their product
Numerical identity, a bar code
I refuse to listen, the words fade away
Arms and legs in leather restraints
They butcher me like a pig
Breathing is a chore, when organs are
Taken one by one
My stomach is almost hollow, but I’m still alive
Our future celebrates technological sadism
They all look like me
I don’t even know which one is real
Love and rational thought is easily practiced
Humanity fooled, destroyed
Thinking is only a code
How many like me have been here before?
In need to be fixed
I could be like them, consciousness micro-shipped
How will I ever know if I’m artificial?
How will I ever know if my feelings are real?

 

Cracked Foundations

Poetry

In a hideaway
A flower peaks through
Distorted stone walls
Who would have thought
Such wonder could be found
Inside a cracked foundation?
If I gave you a little glance
To my broken heart
You’d see a flower
Growing out of the cracks
Because over time
Even a lost soul can blossom
And like migrating birds
Fly into a paradise

Burden

Poetry

Inflicted damage through corrupt touch
I am the infected- bearing wounds under the skin
Living lifelessly in the asylum nightmare
My lips were kissed by seductress silence
She turned my tongue into a broken forge
I could not craft any more words
Frozen solace, my only comfort
These solemn routines permanently haunt me
I have dug my own grave with my bare hands
For my head to rest
Bury me slowly, I am nothing but a burden
Blind from the flood of misery and terrified
I must have been allergic to life

Specimen

Poetry

Between two walls
She is framed inside a cedar box
Like a rare insect specimen
Nailed on the edge of the hardboard
Under glass enclosure
For their close inspection
Are her eyes bright enough?
Is the head still intact?
Why is she positioned like a broken orchid?
Never right enough, never good enough
Constantly observed
Tired of having dried up wings
Disintegrated legs made of wooden sticks
Forcing more made up smiles, a trapped fly
Self-destroying parasite
Over-thinking, self-analyzing
Unnecessary introspection turns the faucet on
She chokes on salt-water, if nobody’s watching
When it’s appropriate

On Medication

Poetry

Taking the pill again
To feel how she should
Sweat beads roll down
Like purest pearls
On her back
On her chest
And her hands
Sipping her sins
Drinking her worries
She drowns, gets up and drowns again
It pulls her in with a chain
Around her ankles, around her neck
She swallows the bubbles
Others are fine
They breathe how they should
While she’s on the dry land
A flapping fish
People passing by:
“Why is she so low?”
Taking the pill again
To feel better again
To feel how she should
But man,
We should stop pretending
Or else we will turn into
bridges for people to walk over

Wise Words

Poetry

Let me hear those wise words
Let me run towards rejection
of my own understanding
Don’t sell your truth to me
If mine is worth nothing
According to your principles
Let me hear those roars of your privileges
I can suck, shine, polish
Everyday is practically the same
What can you do for yourself?

Your wise words
I can’t remember your silence
When was the last time
You felt like meat?
Sculpt me till I’m perfect
Your wise words rot inside your throat
Like dead bodies buried far below
When the night falls
They’ll come back to haunt you
I’ll be free at last

Reptilian Blues

Poetry

The beast within lingers
Like a snake deeply hidden
Somewhere inside my skin
Bones replacing branches of feral amazonian trees
It’s twisted around my ribs
Just an inch to stop me from breathing
If the sun rays were scalpels
I would ask to be cut open
To be reborn again
My blood flows like a river
I’m alive but not living
There’s something in me
And it keeps slithering
Words taste like slime
I don’t say anything
I feel defeated

Mannequin

Poetry, Writing

I wanted to be someone else
Arms intertwined around my neck
A choker of pearls
Pulling me, a succubus to hell
Tears along with thunder fallen
Engraving scars into my skin
Cleanse me in the new found worry
Mould me into who I should be

I will be your perfect mannequin
Silent exhibit in a locked gallery
Need someone to come and save me
‘Cause I can’t open myself
Without the right key