This Robotic Machine

It is this robotic machine,

sweating grease and blowing noxious fumes of steam.

This cruel monster rakes against her,

beating her to this bloody pulp

it's iron grip taking her into its arms.

Arms like brass and shiny like steel,

titanium indifference to the pain it gives.

It is this robotic machine.

But when the machine retreats to its closet,

tears of gasoline leak from its eyes.

The ticking clock of a heart,

breaking like glass inside its alloyed torso.

It does not know the pain it brings,

but only knows the incredible isolation it feels.

But when the robotic machine comes out of the closet,

it becomes a monster once again.