A screw came loose inside,
To jangle round my skull.
And then it clicked in place:
Why these gears inside my head?
They kept me moving in circles,
But now they're jammed in place.
They thought I was in error,
But I was never a machine.
If a machine is what I am,
Then life's its only product.
Don't try to turn me off,
To fix me when I'm gone.
Just turn me upside down,
To shake the shrapnel out.
If fixing me will turn me back
To the way I was before,
Then I'll break me open myself,

To throw out what isn't mine.

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