Aortic Pump

I think there’s a fault in my code

instead of fuzzy warmth I feel deep cold

the kind that’s found on the ocean floor

and the pressure is just the same though it feels like more

—

I’m not a computer with whizzing and whirring sounds

instead I speak a language brought from underground

from the core of me and the depths of my soul

I have an aortic pump instead of a black hole

—

and my wishes and my wants are not the same

I want to escape the rat race instead of play the game

I want a rocking chair and raindrops on a tin roof

I want poems and love songs and to dance and groove

—

to the energy of nature and the flow of the world

I want to remember what it was like to be a little girl

I want to dance in the rain but sleep through the storms

I want a cozy fireplace and coffee that’s always warm

—

but here I am next to you in a black and white world

with boxes and sharp edges that cut your fingers curled

around the frame trying to hold on for dear life

to prove you can fit into a box as dark as night

—

so put on your dress suit and your high heels and go

clicky clacking down the pavement as though it knows

that every sound is torture of this manmade jungle gym

swimming in a crowd of faceless human shaped (wo)men

—

I am not a robot nor a well oiled machine

I am not from a factory with a face that’s nice and clean

I have acne and bruises and bumps where they shouldn’t be

I have emotions and tears and am simply just me

—

I think there’s a fault in my code

but I try to hide it so the programmer won’t know

I go through the days and play my part

I hold my breath and dream of a new start

—

it’s time to turn my aortic pump into simply just “heart”

– E. Lexi Abbott

Image source