i know you never liked your apartment in the city,

the one with the thick ceilings and floors.
you were so flat pressed between the two rooms
above
and
below
like a dried flower encrusted between condemning biblical pages.
you said it felt like you'd never make it up to the rooftop,
or even down to the cellar through all that concrete.
but really,
what were you more frightened of?
infinity or an ending?