I’m familiar with the sound of my heart beating,
The thumping and pumping of strong iron and life throughout my entire being is as comfortable as it sounds. Close, rhythmic, exact and unintentional.
I sit silent in the last place you could have hoped to find me in listening.
I can’t here the whisper anymore, and it looks like I haven’t heard the sound in some time.
I have been living accidentally.
Without names and meaning and without noticing in the absence of thought and feeling.
I walk the suburban walkways and I say the words that I’ve recorded on an endless loop,
The tape so old that the scratches make the syllables skip every so often.
I fall asleep in 100% cotton sheets and close my mechanic eyes, creaking with every flicker.
I am mechanic. I am metal and I am fabricated and I am an original of the past generations.
I have stolen a name and I vomit old words and I walk and talk and think and dream what I have been told so many times that I can feel the lessons as they hit my wild soul.
I take a breath and start again. I take a breath and start again. I wake up and start again.
The smell around me tells my conscious that I must have died alone, a long, long time ago.
The leaves and bacteria eat at me from my sleeping bed, and I quietly take the decomposition.
I could be brilliant but I’m a coward.
I live in the shadows and die in the sun, I am quiet and cold and unnoticeable from my stance in the corner. I whisper the secrets of this universe as they have been told to me and I let the universe take its secrets back. They were never mine to have in the first place.
You took me from my psychosis and tied me to the floor without my permission.
You could be brilliant but you’re a coward. I told you this and you smiled because you knew.
You knew everything about this universe too, you held the secrets with me and you would often stumble upon the words and tell me that I was to never be alone in the stars again.
But just because you’ve forgotten that don’t mean your forgiven. I lost you in the planetarium and I realized that once you saw the diamonds my world would never be the same.
I love you without knowing how. Any sense I had left within this skull I call home has fallen into my stomach and the popping makes me nervous. A nervous feeling that I cannot sleep without. I love you because I know no other way than this. No other way than this.
I take a breath and start again. I take a breath and start again. I wake up and start again.
I am mechanic, I am metal and I am fabricated. Thin tubes and wires and plastic insulation are held up with joints and bones and gelatin muscles and they all take the form of me.
You plugged me in, charged me up, and let me operate around the planetarium until it made you sick. A sick feeling that you cannot sleep without.
But I could be brilliant but I’m just a coward, silently listening to the sound of my heart beating, exact and unintentional.
I take a breath and start again. I take a breath and start again. I take a breath.