you
hardly wake up
when
it's time for bed again.
the speed
of time
seems to be increasing
with each
new day
each month and week.
wasn't it just
yesterday
you stood
in front of a mirror
without a line on your face,
how you bounded
up staircases,
three steps at a time.
you drank
whatever you wanted to drink,
ate everything
on every plate.
the world was in slow
motion
back then.
and now it's a bullet
train.
it's getting late.
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