Broken Code

“I am not a robot”,

I cry after another day

of trying to prove it

to everyone around me.

In the back of my mind,

I know this is a reassurance.

Who would want to be nothing more

than a copy and pasted

generic line of code?

“Me”, whispers the back of my mind.

The part of me that wishes to be like them.

The part of me that is tired

of having to choose between myself

and who the world expects me to be.

I was programmed to love stuffed animals,

because how else can I own a dinosaur?!

I was programmed to love cartoons,

because sometimes they understand

the things I needed people to understand

when I was their target audience.

I was programmed to love people,

no limits involved.

I was programmed for a life without limits,

because I was programmed with open eyes.

Life. Is. Magic.

It is a beautiful thing,

I am a beautiful thing,

Living a beautiful experience.

“I am not a robot”, I whisper

After many years

Of trying to prove it to myself.

I am more.

I am power,

I am magnificence,

I am kind, warm.

I am evolved.

My programming is not flawed,

my code not broken.

It is not limited,

but infinite.

I am infinite.