---
My full name, on top of the list,
you keep chanting like a witch.
Your dreams in your light fist,
hope came quick like a switch.
You've acquired the blessed curse;
you're bound to make them proud.
You thought before, this is worse;
now, you're thinking 'bout being loud.
Halo, on the top of your head,
is what honoring eyes offer you.
Dreams, in your pillow--in your bed,
are good enough to feel like flying.
Shoes, worn wherever you led,
are admired for its beautiful clicks,
for the plans inside your head.
Everyone holds an eye to see you,
to expect you--the surprise--
to stay up there,
so you stay there, chanting like a witch:
My full name, on top of the list;
my full name, on top, every bliss.
Despair, swimming in your chest,
comes if you can't maintain it.
Wounds, if you do your very best
and it mattered not even a bit.
So you keep chanting
and you keep hoping
for the unchanging switch:
My full name, on top of the list;
my whole life, on top, every bliss.
---
YOU ARE READING
Finite Infinitives
Poetry𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 ╰ a c o m p i l a t i o n o f p o e m s ╰ c o m p l e t e d "I haven't done everything I want, but in the realm of reams, I already did some."
