The brain is a machine

Future

I hadn't noticed until now. You stare at my furrowed brow while I wonder exactly how momentary your existence is. I thought I was the one.
    The only one. The one who could make you see the world for its beauty-see me for my beauty- see you for your beauty. I thought I'd be the one to rearrange your heart-maybe heal and make you feel
what I do.
    I thought I was the one-The special case, the one to make your heart race and beat in a time-altering pace.
I love you;I loved you.
    But now I know I was solely chose-not because I'm your special rose-but because I am simply a machine.
    A machine that can manufacture the love you reminisced, something you had missed from the little priss who kissed your feet at six.
   I am the clone you formed from the bone of friendship that left you alone.
   I see you standing there, holding her red tinted hair that falls atop of her pale-fair skin. And I know, deep within, that the mask you wear is not too thin, and I know this would have happened if I'd never had been
Your recipe.