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Artificial
Her words are like honey. They drip, so sweet. So filling. But like any other honey, they can make you sick.
Sick to your stomach. Either too sweet, or not sweet enough. Or, maybe, they are too much.
Like a rollercoaster, I ride her emotions. Her words, with their double meanings. The idiot I am, I get off this ride only by saying “let’s go again.”
I ride until the sugar gets to me. The adrenaline overtakes all control.
I throw up. I cry.
I go again.
Can’t stop, it’s just the cycle. Like a rollercoaster, she is a machine. She is made of robotic parts. Screws hold her brain together. And like a machine, she is d e v o i d.
She is machine. She is a machine learning human behavior. How to speak. How to slow her sickly sweet words.
How to hurt.
But just like the rest of humanity, I am i n t r i g u e d.
Fascinated.
I want more of this “AI”.
This
Artificial
Intelligence.
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Favorite Quote:
"Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them." Charles Simic