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? '
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.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Cure For Speeding Time by amber maria moon )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1563 - 1631)
(7 May 1892 – 20 April 1982)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
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