Discharged

I can see

through your tough exterior,

like radiation,

but I don’t think

I feel like

I’m killing you.

 

I see your tender inside,

your weakness, longing

and scars,

oh, so many scars.

 

Maybe this was a bad decision;

trusting a wounded animal

isn’t the wisest course of action,

but I’m so bored

and you’re so desperate

for approval,

from anyone.

 

Even physical

interactions

count as significant,

as you’re wandering,

not connecting,

or even staring off into space.

You’ve become emotionless,

discharged;

nothing left inside.

 

Circuits on stand-by,

waiting

for another time,

another savior,

shyster,

with intentions just like mine.

Come to plug you in

and open up your drives.

 

There’s something pathetic

about this,

something synthetic

in your kiss.

Not even mimetic,

you’ve lost it;

your livelihood,

that thing that makes you.

 

I use and discard,

it isn’t that hard,

not when you are

who you are.

Bring back your gaze,

down from the stars,

turn it inside

and heal those scars.

Find a connection,

with something large,

or be disposed of;

dismissed,

like garbage,

discharged.

 

HG – 2018

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