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It's become routine to look for you
during the idle hours in dark places.
Where you wait for the days to pass.
Are you tired yet?
This stubborn act, it's wearing you out.
It's come time to pull yourself from
the grave you've climbed into so comfortably.
"I was lost."
You were hiding.
"I was angry."
You were shaking.
"I wanted to get better."
Then start trying.
Take your hands off your ears,
open your eyes and start breathing.
Your life isn't over, check your pulse.
It's still beating.
"Words can not express..." they say, so cheaply.
A simple excuse to not exert the effort it would take
to let slip a word with such weight
you fear your tongue could tear and give way.
Vocality has outrun us yet again,
and our child like hands cannot seem to grasp
at any sound amidst a room deafened
by not just our inability, but our fear.
The fear of saying what cannot be unsaid.
Every word uttered, forever hanging there.
Deaf ears, I write to oh so eagerly.
How is it possible?
Little girl, you look so natural.
But when you weren't looking
the moonlight caught those threads
nightfall oh so revealing.
Who would have known?
You were his marionette all along.
Painted smile, so convincing.
Could you hear your heart breaking?
Hanging in those quiet moments,
trying to accept this feeling.
...tbc.
--The static of the transistor kicks in and slowly fades again--
"Why did I take on an an android such as this onto my ship? Well, despite how she may seem, she's still programmed with a basic caretaker chip so ANA does manage to earn her keep. No mistake about that. But you know me, it ain't about earning your keep to stay here, it's about whether or not you belong here. Or rather... if you didn't seem to belong anywhere else. Yes, ANA was lost, without actually realizing she was. Because you see ANA had her memories wiped... not sure if it was intentional or not, but the only one's she retained begin shortly before I came to meet her.
This is something I never shared with ANA, she doesn't really need to know. Ah, yes... well I'm aware she wouldn't be effected either way, I just... I guess deep down I worry that maybe somehow for some one in a million reason they would.
You see, ANA isn't a commercial droid, she's custom built from scratch. (Maybe that's why I'm so partial to her, but anyway..) When I first took her in I gave her a thorough once over, clean her up, just the basics. It was then I found a recording stored within her. She was shut down at this point so it was a projection for my eyes only. It showed much like a home movie, perhaps a memento for the engineer who created her.
It became clear that ANA was made to not only care for this solitary man, but love him. Of course, androids have no capacity to love, but she followed the 1's and 0's of her coding and said all the perfect words as if they came from the depth of a gushing teens heart.
Perhaps, after time had passed, the engineer had realized just how hollow his creation was and left her behind. Now ANA has no recollection of whom her creator is, but despite my efforts she cannot un-program the desire to love someone - even if she doesn't know what it truly means.
And that's why now, we have what I'd like to say the most unique hunk of bolts this universe has to offer. I mean where else are you going to find a droid that screams "I love you!" at the highest volume of her voice box as she tosses those plates of metal around you and hugs you like she's the latest and greatest trash compactor and you're last nights cold leftovers? Yeah, that's what I thought.
And that's why I hope to keep her till my sun burns out. And no... don't worry, I get that she's no Pinocchio.. one day she won't become human and have that happily ever after. But hey, I'll be damned if I don't think about it on these long drives... when I see her looking deep into those never ending stars as if she's trying so hard. So hard to remember that one thing. To find that one thing.
Maybe one day, if I help enough people... droids, aliens.. whomever...find that one thing they're looking for...
...I'll find what I'm looking for along the way.
This is Rocket, just passing the Rainbow Eight off of RETA STRAITS, about 0100, over and out."
I saw something simple, and it pulled me back to reality.
It was something so small, merely existing for a second in passing.
But in those moments I stopped being who I was trying to be.
And remembered feelings I liked to think I didn't have.
You smiled, the sweetest smile I've seen in some time.
I haven't seen you smile in so long, let alone this up close.
There were nights I celebrated your tears,
and days I begged to never see your face again.
But without warning, to silence the malice in my bones, you smiled.
Now that smile, that I know will never again face me
it lingers still in my day and brings a gripping sensation to my throat.
As if someone were pressing their heel against it.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hated you.
I'm sorry you hate me.
And that will never change.
But for some reason,
I'm still so fucking sorry.
Cold was the night when her mind slipped,
seconds screaming or perhaps barely inching by.
"Idle hands, Amelie." A voice purred from behind.
A ghost. An intruder. A murderer - anything but her.
"Jamie..." Clenching both fists, she stood.
Frozen in fear, awash with anguish.
The blackened side of the coin,
a walking curse on whom she may possess.
"Could it be you've been hiding from me?
No - why hide from the only one who will always be by your side?"
Jamie's hands slipped upward and took rest upon Amelie's shoulders.
"You haven't forgotten that, have you?"
An eerie chill shot up Amelie's spine,
a gasp nearly leaping from her lips.
Oh, how she prayed it was but a memory.
One to be forgotten by time,
and lost behind every step she took.
But how the candle light grew brighter,
it's black smoke traveling with every inhale.
To poison.
"You think the world needs you?"
To destroy.
"You think you deserve any of it?"
To condemn.
"Poor naive, little Amelie."
I have colors, they only come out in the dark.
It's coming, I know it.
When the pain sends shooting from my chest,
the pressure building in the back of my head.
Only then, I feel it.
And my colors, blinding colors, they spring forth
spewing from my eyes, nose and mouth.
Forgive me, I seek not comfort, but myself.
If this is, in fact - that.