What I've become.

I donno, just the sounds....

Hark I hear a chattering,
down below I hear a fluttering
Butterflies in the dark

Haste I see them gathering
silly men with silly hats
breast plates made of porcelain
suffering wounded but they don't know

sing, I hear a chorus from machinery in the shop.
Klunking of gears and clanks of chains,
switches switching on and off

I predict a future.. something I seem to feel is coming and,
it will change the lives of all.

Softly I creep along the wall, my shadow hidden by my form.
I wake none, no one waits for me, I find a door and slip below it.
Vapor, mist myself in swallow trails...ooh,wheew! Free now,
never to walk again, or listen to or, just silence and this is wonderful.

Many days gone, so far ahead of me.
tried to blink, forgot I can't
Looked down, saw nothing but inside of me.
This is nice and still it's odd

Nowhere now, nothing here, I wonder if and nothing more.
Then somewhere I hear a piston grind. I must find the source of that.
It's darker now and things begin to form in a gradual sort of way.
Like dust collects, this collects itself and I feel a form coming into me.

Then the grind sets down like a tonne of ram like thunder crashing into a floor.
And s squeal and clatter and the loudest cough I ever heard explodes."boom-boom, hiss, clack-clater, ching, chince and the world comes to life at once Boom Boom!

Not much time I feel a spinning turn and I'm rolling inside and spitting out oil.
I tried to look but I have no eyes but I can both see and hear with sound.
Someone to my left a few more to my right a bunch more across from me,
they are muted some, must be a chamber but I can feel they feel just like me.

I resolve to spinning and kinda like it too. It feels nice to be a part of this speechless group all sharing in these sounds.
I decide I'm proud of what I've become.

Time passes uncounted, could be ten years, ten minutes or ten days. Not sure I know.
But I love our song or the sounds we make, never ending I think, still not sure what I've become.
Eventually I hear a voice but it's hard remembering the sounds of words and soon we stop. Silent now is all except the voice.
I listen closely and wonder what it means...

Other memories come slowly back to fill my mind.
I once had a voice too and a wife I think. We used to talk all the time.
This is annoying I think. I don't want to remember those things.
Where is my F'n Song?
I shift to twist and can't. I want to scream I can't want to crush that damn voice I want my sounds!

Days pass slow, none of us move, eventually the memories of the voices return.
The voice says "Mack she sprung a rod but the motor's still good. Can have her fixed next week as good as new"

And now I know what I've become...
brr........*