Beneath the Machinery of Myself

Verse 1 Somewhere beneath the machinery of myself, A quiet pulse rebels against the shelf Where I stored emotions I couldn’t name— File boxes labeled guilt and shame. The gears keep turning in a fractured line, Grinding echoes of a life that wasn’t mine. And every thought loops back into the pain, A tired equation I can’t solve again. ⸻ Pre-Chorus The system overloads— a truth I can’t contain. I hear the circuits sparking in the architecture of my brain. ⸻ Chorus Underneath the machinery of myself, I find the part I’ve always feared— The unfiltered mind, the shadow behind, the voice that’s never interfered. If I dismantle every cog and wheel, Maybe I’ll remember how to feel. ⸻ Verse 2 I’ve lived in frameworks others built for me, Calculated choices out of loyalty. But algorithms fail when hearts collide, And logic rewrites itself from inside. A glitch appears— a crack within the core. I see a truth I’ve never touched before: The blueprint wasn’t written in my hand— I’m living boundaries I don’t understand. ⸻ Pre-Chorus The pressure rises, meaning bends— A self unravels as illusion ends. ⸻ Chorus Underneath the machinery of myself, I find a blueprint made of scars— The constellations of expectations, mapped like broken stars. If I deconstruct what kept me numb, A truer version might become. ⸻ Bridge (ruhig → eruptiv, DT-typisch) I peel away the layers of design, Lines of code that never once were mine. Memories defrag into a clearer sight— A strange new warmth beneath the night. Subroutines collapse, the firewall fails— The consciousness expands beyond its rails. A revelation flickers into form: You are not the program— you are the storm. ⸻ Final Chorus Beneath the machinery of myself, I rise from gears that used to bind. What once controlled now falls away, as I reclaim the sovereign mind. If I rebuild from fragments I’ve outgrown, I’ll finally walk a life I own.