i dont like to be touched
our robotic arms can last only so long, rusted embraces, all of us falling apart at the seams-what had seemed like an inseparable forever, what was like a hinderance to progression, two wrongs running parallel to one another-reaching for the rung to claim the place in our species existance-for just a short period of time i thought id lost you-consensual amputation from the start to the finish line, it doesnt matter if it was seen-it was felt without the help of a sign, almost like a omnipresent force-pushing and pulling us all along-"Surprise! Youre on Candid Camera" actors and scenes all set up for the entertainment of others-recollect your emotions from the television-from the time of seperation to the last fleeting moment of deconstructed acknowledgement-your entire world collapses, and the only wrong you had to hang onto is gone-i needed to know one thing, the need to flow through one of the missing corroded counterparts-what i would do to feel any kind of imperfection other than mine own-a constant longing-for the one thats falling-apart at the seams-sedated maybe we can hold it together-if not, just as well that we break-peices of two-each one catagorized either 'the one that used to be part of me' 'the one that used to be part of you' both eventually corrected as being 'the confused species of who is who'