Machinisation

by Shawnong

I feel the steel bars cutting through and out of my heart, devouring the organ in its entirety. Like the roots germinating from a seed, a seed that was planted inside me by words; by indoctrination and subtle messages.

My heart is now a mass of dead metal. But it is still hungry for more, it wants to widen its grasp. The metal crawls up my gullet, slowly and insidiously. Covering every mucous layer with its chilly surface, suppressing the life force beneath. It comes up through my throat, but there is no gag reflex. It is an unnatural process but one which my body falls prey to. I am desperately vulnerable. How do you defend against something from within you?

It crawls out of my mouth and spreads it reach over my head, covering and filling every orifice with relish. My mouth goes dry. My ears, deaf, as if at the bottom of some unthinkable deep ocean. I feel my irises become taut, or perhaps dead for a more accurate description. They are now inanimate objects which do not fulfil their structural purpose.

My heart is supposed to be racing, but it now too is lifeless. Stripped of its simple purpose by the oppressor.

I feel the metallic elements seep through the pores of my skin, clawing their way out from the inside and overflowing through the external. The pores in my skin expand excruciatingly slowly, and the fibres of my skin stretch to give way to the metal. The metal flows over every remaining inch of my body and covers me in its stronghold.

I am now…

I think…

I…

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