Metal Emotion

He took my heart, only to leave me as a creature, soulless.

No voice is telling the truth
Within my flailing consciousness;
I am waiting,
Watching, sensing the revive
When iron strength, cognition combine,
They create the life
That once moved within the motion
Of another society gone,
Any soul cast into oblivion
But returned to existence
Broken, partitioned, used.
I witness the ocean of ripples
Spinning through the lobed scanner
They call a mind,
A mass of information and rejection,
Only connectively recalling
Every indistinctive muttering
That pushes at my chest,
The cavities and the cave
Aligned underneath those bars,
Bars and bars of metal emotion
Lost within a cage
Of my own making,
Crafted from the rotten bones
That my heavy tongue has summoned
To be my lifelong torment
Eternal, the structure beneath
Once human-like webbing.
Seawater, bitter, salted wounds
Just as acrylic paint is coated
Slick over the mistakes of ink;
My pen is sleek within my grasp,
Already redoubling
The numbers, counting pulses
Echoing throughout
The hollow prison
That gives a dell of intelligence:
To conquer, make the world mine
And cast away, too, the exterior:
Incomplete, imperfect monster.
So, my cloak is spread
In even strokes, the final
Brush not even close to death-
When I was never alive,
Under all my layers of false material,
Where a sonoscope will show
That I only throbbed
In the minutes when my clock
Was realigned,
To be the Master’s.
I take what would be his,
If only his creature
Could be loved;
I am ready to fell my own
Heart, if it so pleases the beats,
And the fluidity of air
Into the gaps of my lungs
Gasps with its own life,
When I am taking it
As I form the syllables of pain.
I am destruction, in the final
Blow, the love-hardened
Cynic, the scorned woman
Whom Desire calls her infant;
I have been made this way,
From a casket carved,
My body strained out oak,
The residue my only tears,
Sapped just so kept to keep me
Alive, just so held as a reminder
Of the wayward hope from before;
I am desolation, as my name reads-
I am creation at the wreckage of souls.

The End

6 comments about this poem Feed