Factory

ten attempts to get this factory going, all failed, leaving heavy damage in their place

empty floor tiles spread between each machine allowing them room to breath. their hallogen eyes have faded, rarely lighting up. they have shared this space together. I have allowed them to stay. the orginal model still hovers in the back. I keep a picture in the office in case he ever moves out

metalic music echoes from previous days of work. they stare at me with anger, contempt. their practically new, barely any signs of use. I lost every key long agoso I walk down the line to the next model, slightly different, but same designer. the synthetic covering curves over the mechanized insides, I admire his features, contemplating, slowly pull the control panel out and start him up, motion, music, movement, eyes open and flare out, cogs churn, electricity firing

hello, he says, I am eleven.without hisitation, it begins. metal to flesh, element to element, sirens flare, organic combines with computerized, keys turn and assembly begins, my skin is burned by the heat, the other machines, scream their chorus in the background, taunting and mocking. this lasts for minutes alone, it seems like hours

a small light comes onwarning of enternal error, a belt snapes, cutting my face, bolts pop off, steam rises from the middle. this too shall pass I say to myself as his eyes flicker. jolty movements, slowed gears, shut off, assembly has stopped again. the metal is cold to the touch now. I step back and admire his features once more

I am the collector of broken machines. many more to try, many more possibilities. I have only eleven to show
you think that'd be enough

this strange new feeling

the empty space where substances used to reside
weighing more in their absence than when present at the meeting
this aura of possibility adds so much
now, with volume filled
overflow being gathered and anticipated, i worry of floods
overcosumption can not be tolerated, can not be allowed
patience will be practiced, timing will be enforced
can not let myself drain this new reserve, must show restraint
collect a stockpile and build depots for which to return to as needed

supply has potential to double previous possibilites
but demand must remain low
events in the past have shown this to be an uneasy process, this gathering
resistence to this forced structure, wanting to jump to the front of the line
I am the prisoner of my situation, yet I was elected and hold Marshall law
the rope is pulled tight, wound around my torso, knotted to the form
your form, your substance, you
must relearn how to wait, must train myself anew
must try harder than ever before
so many possibilities to ruin this situation
perfect balance must be found
weigh out negatives, prepare for their arrival
hide my stash after taking one last hit
your chemical is difficult to inject at first, but waves of faimiliarity arise after

a junkie for connection
this addiction worsens with every hour
i will practice medicinal treatments and hope for the best
with this dangerous element, your element.
i will break the previous mold
breathe and intake, allow the slowed warmth
enjoy this moment, scratch at the feeling, twinge with relief
with initial happiness comes waves of fear for when the come down begins
prepare, pray, plan an escape
this is why I said no to begin with, this is why I passed it along a long time ago
the fix is so damn good, but the addiction is to much to bare.
to rid myself of intial shock, i will cause the infection personally everytime
inject the poison before the handler can.
resist tolerance

memories on day 497/past writing

the day my life began/haulted

you finish the sentence and a guillotine drops

for a few moments, i do not exist

rising from the deep

this force floods my organs

a pause in the universe

echoes to the edge

past where i thought

we would make it

intense surge inside me

i can feel it pour down the walls

as my lungs expand around the tension

crowding my ribs, breaking my spine

as my heart hemorages

veins play to an empty room

all that is possible

all that was promised

now null and void

undead pulse screams as i am thrown

back to the begining

before your campaign began

before the gloves were taken off

before it dragged me still and calm

there has been a slaughter

the blade is fresh and warm