reconstruction

oh! boy, you'll thank me for this one day.

i've meticulously taken
all that flesh and bone and turned you into
someone much more
useful,
pertinent,
stable,
predictable.

i've fixed you.

i peeled off skin like a
tangerine in the summer heat
wiping my hands as i worked;
putting you in that metal shell
was the best decision we ever made.

the only thing i couldn't save was your
pumping, feebly sensitive yet explosive heart.

but trust me darling, you are better off without.

because i cannot love you forever,
i remember once,
before you were all dials and
lights, i told you,
"having a heart is like an evolutionary step

in the wrong direction."

you cried when i did,
and i'm positive i could feel
that explosive heart
wringing itself around your ribs
to try and escape,
kill me for what i was calling it.
i could feel you
wanting to, too. but
that anti-darwinistic,

four chambered,
emotional,

sissy son-of-a-bitch

just wasn't having any of it.


instead you just cried, and loved me all the same.
but i keep reminding you,

you will be
grateful,
later.