Love Poem by Kale Beaudry

there is no severity in a flattened iron casing that has become my heart
a robotic adaption made by me, where my glowing red eyes register the prize
of an engineer who can only save me, can only turn me back into a person
free me from these invisible bonds so I can once again stand on top of the clouds
that have somehow invaded my mind.

all the black has degenerated into a red compilation of sensation, but I like it, tickling my brain like a phone on vibration,
like a tongue on a tongue in a face, but let's be real;
it's impossible to safely guess the unguessable, unsafe to guess the undoable, suicidal to reach the peak of who does what or who goes where.

so just f-- go for it, don't be unoriginal like the million of insects out there