Tuesday, August 25, 2015

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

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