I go back up high, when monsters bite at my flesh.
My soul sits on ether, ether.
I release a sigh, and I write in poetry.
I gain a high, when I write my poetry.
Power, and honesty is what is found in speaking and thinking things openly.
Robotic.
Robotic.
Robotic.
But I am, autonomous.
Human, human, human.
Emotions, emotions, emotional…