Machine

Shreya Ragavan

I am nuts and bolts and jagged pieces,

Frayed wires and fractured fibers,

Dim fire and forgotten ire.

Inky gasoline and smokescreen dreams,

Scrapyard shards and discarded parts

with an iron heart.

(A few screws loose, too.)

I am so much beautiful decay.

I am my own industrial nightmare.

half-empty

unnamed

half-awake

I wasn't always this way.

I was once a spark,

A live wire,

a soft glowing ball of fire.

But as the model machine,

I couldn’t afford to bend or break

Or be in anything less

Than tip-top shape-

The epitome of cold and clean efficiency.

I was so high-functioning.

Don’t you see?

This factory is no place for love or fear.

There is no margin for error here.

I steel myself so no one sees

The emptiness inside of me.

Sometimes I can’t tell monster from machine

from human being.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and cannot see

A way to love what is left of me.