Malignant Machine

I wish I knew what to do.
I've always been in control at the
wheel of my psyche; this terrain has
always been manageable. Then you
came into my life, Obliterator
of reason, Destroyer of this
organization which I've
grown so attached to.
The engine that
ran my life
was acceptable.
You came along,
and altered the settings;
I'm still debating whether you
changed them f'the good or the bad.
I run perfectly now, easily, but doubt
renders the engine useless. It shudders
with chagrin, sputtering dismay. If
only I knew how to approach
the malfunctions. If only
I could tweak them
so that I could
remember
how it was
in the beginning:
when my engine ran
unfaltering. But I worry.
I know I can't fix the problem
on my own; but I'm also
concerned that if I
notify you,
the
changes
you make may
again vanquish
this fresh feeling
that I have become
familiar with. What
the new emotion is
I believe to be evol.