(no subject)
I tripped and broke my glass heart a million years ago. The warm and fuzzy feeling sits on my shelf collecting dust. I haven't touched it in months. There's only so much you told me even if I count the lies. I had to learn how to trust again and you stole that from me. And you can't give it back. It's fucking broken and I'll have to make another. You didn't even fucking apologize.
And here it comes again. The only thing that ever filled up the hole. The colliseum rests like a halo on the world; marble and stone carved in shapes that only gods could appreciate. The spectators cheer, and it takes me all of ten seconds to realize that they're not cheering for me.
The mechanism approaches. They all want me to be a cadaver under the claws of the machine. And part of me wants to be. Part of me wants to erase the logical creature and replace it with this hunk of steel that relies only on programming. It is our destinies to be strangled by this halo.
And here it comes again. The only thing that ever filled up the hole. The colliseum rests like a halo on the world; marble and stone carved in shapes that only gods could appreciate. The spectators cheer, and it takes me all of ten seconds to realize that they're not cheering for me.
The mechanism approaches. They all want me to be a cadaver under the claws of the machine. And part of me wants to be. Part of me wants to erase the logical creature and replace it with this hunk of steel that relies only on programming. It is our destinies to be strangled by this halo.