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The Speed of Me

It's difficult to think right
when my temperature is rising
and the world surrounding me
is falling.

I like to stare at the clouds
as they race up and away.
As I jump from beyond the
atmosphere.

My cheeks are rouged with the heat.
There is no feeling of falling,
but of the earth coming to embrace me.

Hitting the clouds, I feel cleansed.
The cool droplets calm the
illusions, the fever dream
I'm having.

The mountains bow before me
as I sail by to the void
below and to where there will
be comfort.

But I race past it all and drop
to the center of the earth where everything
is like the molten tears Odysseus
has shed.

Again I fall away from the center
of gravity where there is warmth
and safety. From here on out my fever rises.

I wave to the people who walk like us,
not upside down like they thought.
They bid me farewell as I travel at
the speed of me.




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swifthearth said...
Nov. 26, 2011 at 5:42 pm:
This poem is great. I loved the fact that it raidiated much emotion. You are really good. Th only critic i have was that your word of chiooce was a little bit remedial. other than that, it was amazing. 
 
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