and I am
holding onto myself
for want of
being held
There is a void somewhere
inside of me
uncomfortable
but okay
I wait for the morning
Reaching
unsure for what
the light is vapor
on this side
But I know
Pieces of me
hang around
I am so afraid
of the kind of storage
Through to the end
I stand
Touching space
knowing it holds everything
even you
I do not wish
to be filled
I only wish to remain
a part of the movement
toward light
when the morning comes
(c) kalonia jennings 12
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