lets see what you think

perpetually, i am a typewriter. anxiously new.
so i wrote something for you. because this is isnt about me:



The steadiness of life is slowly killing us all
like a poison,
thirsty for a pair of lungs
or a creeping fog
that gently licks our toes

and the black sins of earth
rely on the failure of words
and you have not the slightest notion of what to say

and the compass that use to lead you
is forgetting to sway

sometimes I sit
alone under the stars
and I think of the galaxies in your heart
and how you will never get to explore them

because when you walk
it follows slowly behind you
creeping up your calves
into your final breaths

and you will keep walking
until the end of time
and time is a terrible thing
when you feel like a compass that points nowhere

and I have failed because I lead you to the blackness of your own heart.
and where there are no words at all
you stand there alone
wishing you could pin point the very moment
you lost your way

but direction is an illusion
when you are spiraling down
like a smiling infant
into the unfamiliar world

and every time I try to save you
the darkness changes shape
into indescribable gestures only a soul could manifest

so all that is left
is what was left in the beginning:

the dark stillness of fog
that will soon
come for us all