In truth, I am lost.
I grow more scared as the day goes on.
A pulsing beat.
Destroy all that there is.
Shatters everything else.
In truth, I am being rebuilt.
Brick by brick.
And that steel plated mask fits perfectly.
Machine parts and synthetic emotions.
Proto type 389-A4.
Is it done yet.
Is it perfect yet.
Is it
Is it
No its a long way from being done but it's stronger.
It holds a odd connection with a group of young humans.
It has its own ideas.
It has its own mistakes.
What's going on?
I can't believe that this is happening.
So in truth, I am seeing you.
YOU ARE READING
Only Human After All
PoetryInk not blood surges through my veins . One hundred word each, and yet a new ideal for each. Questions about this will be answered. I also take prompts for this and other types of writing. (fanfiction included) Looking for a new way to get the idea...
