When I was fifteen, they took me to
the hospital for a
Routine MRI
Said I had been acting funny, and they
were concerned
I didn't see what was wrong
All I had done was be myself
But apparently that wasn't true
They let me look at the pictures of my MRI.
Circled by one of the special markers,
Was my heart.
Or, rather, my lack of one.
In its place was a black rectangle,
Prompting my parents' panic and frantic calls all over the world.
Upon further examination, it was green.
Not the bright green we girls wear on
our fingernails,
And not an icky puke green.
Just green, and covered with tiny little
wires and bolts.
I told my boyfriend this and he said it
was a circuit board.
Apparently they go in computers
They tell it what to do
How to do it
Where to do it
Do you know what it's like?
To have a computer inside you
Running your thoughts
Your feelings
Your actions?
Can you possibly begin to understand
how it feels?
To know you're a freak of nature
That for the rest of your life you'll be
studied by scientists
Under the microscope, like a bug
The robot girl, here to revolutionize medicine
When in truth I just want to go home and read a book.
Lord of the Flies, perhaps.
Something with a lot of killing.
Because I know for a fact that there are
a lot of people I want to kill
And I don't have laser eyes.
All these little wires make me me
All my cold, heartless comments
Now I know I don't have to feel bad
Because I really don't have a heart.
I don't even have a pacemaker
I have a circuit board.
Computer, if you must.
But that might explain why I never
have to breathe.