294/365: Fear of Disappearing

I think
I want to hold something very tight in my hand.
I want it so tight in my fingers
that there is no doubt
I possess this thing.
Possession feels like murder.
It feels like building a body
that matters
outside my body.
It feels like consumption.

I am writing one poem every day in 2016, and I am using the hashtag #365poems to document my progress.