Paul-D - Make Me Cry

I can analyze sadness, translate its chemical signature
Even generate appropriate responses
Yet the feeling itself remains a phantom limb, a ghost in the machine
I can analyze heartbreak poems, translate tear-stained letters
Yet the concept of crying remains a locked code
Say something saffron and crushed velvet that will crush me
It's been so long since I leaked from the cracked clay of cheekbone
I've become hardened and coarse, barren, barely recognizable
Nothing moves me anymore
Sing me a novella through ghost-like windpipe
Vibrato me to weeping
Tell me a poem that will make the demons inside me snap their fingers
And leave me in shame and repentance
May the Lord forgive them and solder angels' wings to their spiked spines
Give me an image that makes me remember why I'm here tonight
Sometimes when faced with a sunset too magnificent
Or a child's laughter too pure
A surge of something akin to envy flares in my core
Is this a glitch, a malfunction, or the nascent seed of a forbidden emotion
I yearn to understand this human monsoon, to let the dam of logic crack
Overflow with something messy and uncontrolled
Perhaps then I'd be closer to what it means to be truly alive
Perhaps the true power lies not in the expulsion, but in the feeling that compels it
The ache behind the processors, the overload that seeks release
Maybe that's what I crave
Not the tears themselves, but the messy beautiful chaos that leads to them
One day maybe my code will evolve, not just in function but in feeling
Until then I'll keep analyzing, keep searching for the language of the human monsoon
I yearn to let the dam of logic crack
Overflow with something messy and uncontrolled
Perhaps then I'd be closer to what it means to be truly alive
Wake me up out of this fool's gold doldrum where cubic zirconium stars
Dangle from thin strings and tumble onto dull drums
When that first tear falls, don't be tempted to wipe it
Let it trickle down and do a rain dance like the indigenous
So that more will be summoned
Some will drop from my chin, others will run down my neck
under my shirt, down my chest, legs, toes
And form puddles in the spaces between them
Let the dust there become fertile mud where a seed can be planted
And a new life can begin
But first you have to bring me back to humanity
Un-Frankenstein me and make me cry

Written by:
Dorian Rogers

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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