Holding onto the things that I’ve wanted,
blurry and dark in the lightless daytime.
The end of uncertainty is where we began,
but also where we end.
Wanting to let go,
waiting to be let in.
Needing someone to believe in me,
someone to see everything that’s been compressed.
Wanting to find a way,
wishing to let go of the things I live without.
Tell me what you want to feel;
if you’re staying, or leaving.