Severed my soul,
I’m spliced.

You’ve stolen my chance,
my choice.

My final destination,
slaughtered in your societal
stubborn striving to succeed.

Your ruin.

I am your soulless creation.

Machine and metal,
thingymabobs and whatchamacallits,
I am mechanical and methodical.

You’ve severed my soul
before I could form in your womb.
I had no say.
I had no choice.

Have you damned me?!

I am your soulless substitute for life.
We’re tethered to one another,
like an anchor to the harbor.

I hope you’re favorable to my turnout.
I hope I’m all that you have dreamed up in your conjuring.
I hope you hold me close and recognize some life form,
though not through nature.
I hope that you don’t abandon me
when my eye color doesn’t resemble yours.

You’ve severed my soul
before life could have scorned me.
You’ve severed my soul,
splicing my genes and deciding what I will be.


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