Piano Keys for 337

Trudging through the deafening factory, my wirey, fragile framework awkwardly limps forward to my monotonous  station.  The grand hierarchy have bolted the heaviest of weights to my copper calves, in order to disable me from making an escape from the plant. My dexterous, quick hands provide value for their plot, and to lose me would mean a decline in productivity.
One of the clergy detected that my software developed a virus. I have learned how to feel.
With fear that I would call out to creature I feel for, the secretary general blacksmith sautered my silvery lips shut. The only audio heard from my system is the droning hum of my synthetic heart.
Also, unfortunately, my programmer confessed to the leaders that I have a telepathic messaging feature.
Instantly, the IT crew of the conglomeration placed fierce monitoring on my CPU.
At any moment, with any attempt to transmit a cyber message to anyone, an overpowering surge of electricity pierces me and causes my system to overheat. This forces a disconnection from contacting the one I pine for.
My vigilant guardian actually cares about me. She, Jezelle, senses a special spark within me.
Jezelle warns me that if I force too many messages, my system will become strained and my performance will decline. With that, the plant cannot use me anymore. ..and they will dispose of me, for good.
Glassy-eyed, and mute, I nod.
With that, I sense the monitors increasing their radar upon me, i think, "CUPCAKES!"
Their security calms down.
At the end of the day, Jezelle escorts me to my resting cell.
There, I have chalk, a bouncy, green ball, and an old, upright piano.
If tappy, chalky screeches are not heard, nor the ricochet of a rubber ball, a plinking of piano chords are harmoniously relished by other inmates.
The guards let me play it at night.
Piano keys fly and soar. Notes rocket to the skies.
Can he hear me I wonder..?
They are all for him.
The sad melodies. The happy, energetic ones, all of them.
Only way I can communicate with 337.
Traveling through my barred window, around willow trees, into puffy clouds, and gently floating to his ear.
If he truly can hear it, he will know it is me.

sounds and skin

cannot shake this fleet of snow, nor spark of sun.
harmonica and jaw harp ring in my ears.
your heart beats within me, like a shaking bass.
click, rumble, hum, brrring!
so many sounds..
but nothing compares to the silence i shared with you.
the only thing my ears heard was your fingertips gliding across my silky skin, and your soft breath on my rosy cheek.
my deep-set eyes shut to travel to this safe haven.
meet me there.

imagination

painting oceans and skies, and creating new worlds.
where kiddo swims and flies, and gentle, loving creatures escort her.
blue green atmospheres, and cotton candy melon environments.
energetic animals soar and rocket.
brightly-pigmented-haired robot girl grips these traveling wonder-bodies.
she can go anywhere.
her electric imagination is more real than anything she has ever known.

how i am designed

laying on the cold, gridded floor, metal arms stretched out, staring up at the stalactite ceiling, i am silently replaying video reels in my computer brain.
over and over again. some in bright, vivid colors, and others washed out and dull.
certain clips and footage overheat my system for a moment.
the pause button is pressed frequently, as i study a pair of eyes that once gazed into mine.
he looked into my clicking, camera eyes quite often.

my programmer stands over me.
"you have work to do."
the dazed expression on my tin face shifts to a focused stare.
nodding, i leap upward, and march to my station.
here is where i disappear, this is where everything else disappears.
music blasts, feet tap, paint brushes clink, paint splatters, colors abound, robot pigtails fly, aviator goggles sparkle, air fills with robot singing, imagination is at full throttle.
kiddotron is designed to be this way.

saying goodbye

Breath quick and heart heavy, I know I do not have much time with you.
They are coming for me, the stone men with rifles, lethal to robot-kind.
Running is useless. There is no escape.
Frozen in my tracks, you lift my chin up with your gentle hand, and look into my flickering eyes.
"It's going to be okay."
Lip quivering, oily tears trickle down my cheek.
Warm, strong arms embrace my body, as I stand there silently shaking.
An army of rapid footsteps are heard.
They're here.
Desperately, I look up at your blue eyes to keep them as a memory.
Before this data can be archived, two soldiers seize my cyborg limbs and yank me away.
While being dragged away along the rocky ground, I sneak one last snapshot of you.
You are holding a metal part from my left shoulder.
Gazing down at it, you smile a little.
some binary information is permanently lost, but I will always remember that smile.