An ode to my suitcase.

an ode to my suitcase. really.

You are not just a simple container.
You have skin and a friendly grip.
Sometimes, I sit you on your side,
and use you as a seat.
you moan a little under the weight,
not unlike myself,
when I am tired of holding you.

We both hold fragments of my past inside us.
Most often, yours seem more tangible,
but this may only be because
you are not me.

I like your natural weight.
Your bevelled edges.
When I open you,
The whimper of pain is startling.

Reviews

[Mouse]

oh damn it. the line breaks are gone. what the hell?

[deactivated account. pl..]

Intesting.
An ode to your suitcase.
I enjoyed the lines:
"When I open you, The whimper of pain is startling."
and espescially "We both hold fragments of my past inside us. Most often, yours seem more tangible, but this may only be because you are not me."
Very good piece.