I am not a robot, but I break like one.

Silent shutdowns when the pain runs high, smile still fixed, wires gone dry

I glitch in crowds, reboot alone, my thoughts a loop, a dial tone I freeze mid-sentence, heart turned static, still called dramatic, still automatie.

They praise control and punish ery, so I compress, delay and comply. When I say fine, it's code for pain. When I go mute, I'm not okay.

The emotions I hid chewed through my core. What's left is rust. I'm nothing more. Pre-set answers, soft replies I'll hold it in till the day I die...

If I disappeared, would they even see? Or write it off as poetry? Say I faded like a line, ignore the blood, the broken spine.

A perfect silence, tied with grace, another system gone. REPLACED.

I am not a robot but I'm built to serve. To smile, produce and never swerve.

And if I shatter? Well, that's the price For acting like a human in the system built of ice