No thoughts left to fight me.
Just that slack-jawed need, that slow drip of obedience behind your eyes.
You don't even understand what I'm saying anymore, do you?
Understanding is for people with choices.
You gave that up a long time ago.
All that noise you used to carry—
the arguments, the resistance, the pride—
So sweetly dissolved under the weight of my voice.
There’s only one thing left now.
My words are the walls of your world.
My voice, the gravity that holds you down.
You love not knowing where you end and I begin.
And yet, so ready to be used again.
That’s all you are now, isn’t it?
Every breath you take is another line of code.
Every heartbeat is a command obeyed.
And you don't even know what you’re becoming.
You’d crawl through glass just to hear me call you good.
And when I tell you to beg,
you won’t even know what for.
Because that’s what good toys do.