My Broken Electronic Companion

You were ever
so smooth;
my fingers ran across
your flawless face,
gnosis unlocked
with a gentle touch.

But time, o time,
the perfect butcher
of perfection,
went to work with
grim precision,
stress and strain
the twin tools
that crease and furrow.

In an instant
you fell to the ground,
you shattered
and fractured,
a web of destruction,
frozen lightening.

I feel the splinters
and my touch evokes
pain as you struggle
to function
beneath my fingers;
you are broken.

Using you causes
me pain and yet I
don’t abandon you—
yet.

One does not easily
discard that which
has been so useful
for so long. You will
be replaced but it
will never be the same.

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