Tag: narrative poem

Thank you for being first heartbreak. 
Thank you for putting all at stake.
Thank you for making my heart ache.
Thank you for breaking my heart.

You pushed until I saw red.
You pushed until the last straw.
I saw it. I broke it. I know it.
Me. You. Not us.
Me. You. Not us.

I threw my mind away;
I abandoned common sense.
Now, I've been free ever since.

Thank you for being the one to lower the bar.
Thank you for making it clear what goes too far.
Thank you for making me as mad as a hatter.
Thank you for making it easy to put no much flatter.
Thank you for being my first heartbreak.

Through the shadows of the hallways, 
She walks, surrounded by whispers:
"Glitch," is the her name, they say,
but her heat, her soul, never turns crisper.

Wires strung under her skin like veins,
Brain, electrodes of green code.
They say she doesn't understand pain.
Her youth is on a permanent hold.

Heart of copper.
Blood of potassium.
Brain of extraterrestrial material.

Seeing her mechanical code,
They say,
"Demean her;
She'll fall in so easily,
That alien."

Pitchforks,
Torches,
Sticks,
Stones,
And water,
Stab her,
Burn her,
Poke her,
Break her,
And rust her machinery to no point of return.

Look at that girl,
The one who sits alone,
The one you call weird.
She is not a glitch.
She is not an alien.