machine me

My scars don’t define me

They are merely scratches on the surface of this body

This body that I hold

I am my body and my past, but it is not me

That’s how I gain my confidence

By knowing I am so much more than my physical

I’m actually not what’s visible at all

I am a mind, and a soul, that can’t be seen only felt

Can not be explained only experienced

I love the body that contains me

Even tho it has been harmed

I love the bones that keep me upright

Structures and alarmed,

with triggers and buttons that only I know best

But I am missing one button that allows me to rest

I know the procedure, but don’t have the code

My body is a machine, that I must decipher

If I want to be released from this world

I must try to figure out combinations and patterns and passwords

To fully experience myself, I must understand the key

To unlocking to door, to set me free

My body is mine, but it is not me

The world is a place that I can’t quite see

Can’t see past the glass windows mistaken for eyes

or feel past the sensors thought to be skin

or the control centre…my mind

Taylor

One thought on “machine me

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