Moving Parts
by Darla Walz
The last time you opened me up,
Maybe you didn't like what you saw.
An open wound,
Full of love and blood...
I've always been a mess.
Complicated.
Nothing like the robot you
Wanted to find...
Because, the truth is,
You're a mess like I am.
You need a mechanical counterpart.
Not a superstar.
Cold, collected.
Taste the metal in your mouth.
Maybe you thought it was
Metal on my lips
The last time we kissed...
But it was just the blood
From biting my tongue
Hard enough to prove
That I really don't feel anything
Anymore.
Poetry
Gay Love ADVICE
