Robots and Pop Tarts

I am like a hot poptart dropped on a cold kitchen floor.
falling, falling, falling until SPLAT
sugary melting icing stopped dead in its tracks, frozen.
Frozen like the wasteland I have come to call my home
blending with everything around me
complacent like a poptart fading into cold tile
just floating, complacent until I STOP
Stop, Drop, and Roll like the robot I have become
Rolling away from the flames that will melt this
Cold, metallic exterior licking the Robot heart within this frame.
Because regardless of what everyone says, Robots need love too

I am the soft, sweet silence of cold, hard surrender
I can feel the peace, the beauty of just letting go.
Letting go of everything I once held dear and exchanging it
Exchanging it all for a pale shadow of the freedom I once knew.
Surrender myself and watch myself
as if I was a fly on the wall with no chance of falling into my own soup
as if nothing can hurt me while I drift
Drift complacently, into a blue sunrise off of a silent lagoon.
With my troubles far behind me and my dreams ahead of me
Running so fast to fling myself off the edge of this waterfall
Just to spend those few minutes flying until I drop
Drop like a hot poptart on a cold kitchen floor.

And at the end of the day, I guess this is my story
The Love song of the Maltshake and the sugar pill.
A story of Poptarts falling in love with Robots
They say that love is a dangerous angel.
My love is like a sunrise in Antarctica
It's frozen and ice cold but it's still something unique.