AUTOMATIC

How will you look early in the morning

What will you feel when I erect my automatic shrines

Why do I keep trying

I cannot make you exist

Do I even want you to

You're never who I think you should be

Just as I dig at the scar

Maybe the skin is soft and pretty underneath

I scrape

I search

I find

I lose

I don't need the automatic burden

I don't miss the automatic trouble

No matter what I do you won't fit

You don't fit, you can't

If only I could piece you out of all my high ideals

A filled out twirling gleam

But then you wouldn't be real

Oh wait, you never were.