Treasure Island

amber maria moon


Cure For Speeding Time


Its been eight singles seconds since the last time i laughed,
I'm feeling warn out,
Muted, sucked from inside.
My hands are clean
No heart shaped bruises,
'It's not getting harder? '
'yes'.

They don't remember the pills I look,
Can't recall how I look,
The life you give, is doing no good,
And the mirror shows a ghost
With hollow eyes,
My mouth stretched in gaunt surprise.

If you know a cure for death, tell him,
he needs it more than I.
Perfectly healthy, he just doesn't have the brains to know why.

Muted, working through it, doing just fine.

Submitted: Friday, March 15, 2013

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  • Www.poemhunter.com/m-d-dinesh-nair-2 Search 2 (3/17/2013 6:38:00 AM)

    No, Maria you have to some how pull yourself out of this mire of odd nightmare... stop seeing him and stand under the smiling moon to feel the other aspect of this fading phase of life... A good poem in terms of quality execution and all the best. (Report) Reply

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