---
All the riffs, all the voices,
and all the songs
brought me back there.
Eyes on the hard ground
where I once danced,
the elevated dreams
I once shared with a hundred.
Once, we shone with all the lights.
Twice, I stepped on the blurred stage,
sharing its nervosity
with my beating heart.
Thrice, I pulled my short sleeves off,
hid my collar underneath
my favorite shirt.
Where is home, really?
Does it ever exist?
Vines or dust?
Wit or trust?
I'm sorry never did that I
said the proper good-bye,
forced all the shock too tough,
but humour's dosage for today
is more than fairly enough.
I've smiled and cackled,
been thrilled and frazzled
way too much for a week—
it makes me sad.
How am I able to miss
what I used to hate?
Am I really taking
the right path
to home?
---
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."
