---
the parks were filled with moss,
the home was filled with cobwebs,
and your voice felt absent.
it was hard to listen to the past,
a restraint causing you not to breathe,
a suppressant weighting your belongings down.
on you.
the days go by,
the comforter never comfortable,
the matress never soft,
the world never good.
heavily, the skies would fall down,
tears drowned in your eyes,
never otherwise,
but it felt the same.
heavily, the skies would fall down,
tears drowned in my eyes,
voice swallowed down my lungs,
guitar packed with my trunk,
room built with no ceiling,
but i wish my heartstrings
still do not know
how to let the music die.
---
YOU ARE READING
Finite Infinitives
Poesía𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚 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."
