Bionic

8/11/10
I’m twenty one and I’ve more than a false hip,
I take more pills than all your grandparents put together,
And I have to oil my limbs every day to keep them in shape,
It wasn’t an alien abduction or a concentration camp
but there were a thousand inhumane experiments
and I was mistaken thinking I’m human, I’m not
even a guinea pig, just a fucking vessel for a million
chemicals, replace all my insides.

They gave me six thousand sedatives
to be sure I wouldn’t wake up,
Would you believe I still woke up?
Well, they made a million incisions
and they pulled off all my limbs,
Took a look inside, ‘no, no this won’t do’,
They removed every organ and drained
out every litre of blood I held,
I don’t know how they kept the body beating,
They remade more than my entire nervous system,
I don’t have veins, I’ve got wires running through,
I’ve got bionic limbs, did you mistake me for a hero?
I’m nowhere even close, and you put a microphone
deep inside my throat, stuck on one volume – low,
So when I woke up, as if six thousand would be enough,
no-one heard me scream, what a beautiful plan,
And what ugly insides, at least they reflect my outsides,

I look in mirrors and I feel my metal fingers curl,
Cause my eyes are empty and expressionless,
And I can’t even whisper affirmations,
Every move I make is so, so noisy
with this metal grinding upon metal,
And messages flow through these wires,
I can’t pick up a phone without causing interference,
And so I try to stay perfectly still

I don’t bother trying to sleep,
It’s so uncomfortable, like lying on stone,
Besides, like a television or a radio,
My brain doesn’t need sleep anyway,
I’m just a mechanical being,
So how come I still feel suicidal?