"Secret agent man
Secret agent man
They've given you a number,
and taken away your name."
~ Johnny Rivers
Once I met a secret agent man
His suit was made of steel
His gun was strong and lean
He taught me not to feel
He taught to compartmentalize my
feelings into wooden boxes with
titanium fastenings.
I once asked how it was to not feel.
Was it empty, or lonely?
Was it easier?
Was it painless to look your lover in the eye and not feel anything?
No chills, heartbeats, or thrills
No heartbreaks, tears, or one night deals.
I soon came to realize that he was a robot.
A cold lonely piece of junk
One that was programmed to have no feelings.
He was made according to pan.
He was someone's finest creation.
A robot designed to mend misfit robots like me.
This robots mission was to fix,
According to his programming I was broken
I was not adhering to the status quo
The lever that regulates the love feature was missing
The bolt that connects the head to the heart was screwed in incorrectly.
All of my boxes were not titanium.
No, damn call to India mother fuckin
troubleshooting was going to fix this shit.
I felt too much, I analyzed too much
and I was altogether too much.
I just wasn't programmed correctly.
The man up there with his bag of tricks decided this one
will not receive the shut off switch.
This one will fall too hard and too fast.
Too many I love yous and not enough fuck yous.
He decided there was just no help for my programming.
There was no manual, or new chips that was going to be
a one second fix. The only solution was a complete system
override.
I needed new screws, new bolts, and new fastenings.
My heart would need to be sold for scrap.
There were so many broken parts
that even the amount of duct tape
used to make a prom dress for some scholarship
wasn't going to jump start my kick.
But, despite all of the malfunction I kind of liked me.
I kind of liked losing my breath on our first kiss.
I liked fantasizing about our future.
I loved envisioning that maybe someday your programming would break.
That one day your heart would ache because I didn't reciprocate.
So, there was only one thing left to do.
I realized that I was really the one that needed to fix you.
So, I thought about what I should do.
I decided that loving you was the only thing I could do.
Maybe, if I loved you then one day your boxes would break.
One day you would stop trying to fix me.
Because even if I am broken in your eyes,
just maybe I was suppose to fix you.
I was the one sent to flip your switch.