This machine

This machine starts automatically
So don't be dramatic when I sporadically come up with words like it was magic.
It's sad to think that my brain could be so fucking tragic without anything having to happen
Now that what I call magic.

It's so fantastic when my mind becomes so graphic from the spastic havoc. I feel like elastic.
Pull me back, I snap.

I'm a sad sap backslapped into a reality of fallacies undoubtedly created by the machine deemed my mentality