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I am searching for baggage that goes with mine:
a suitcase that matches the rest of my junk,
mixed up and mangled and misshapen;
a backpack to keep my lonely tote company;
anything at the ready to pack and flee with me
to scour the planet for adventurous lessons;
or a bag that can hold the weight of my belongings,
which happen to be very heavy at the moment.
Can you hold my world in your hands?
Can you make yourself last?
Will you fight to fall apart not?
Will you promise to at my side hang?
Life is messy and so am I – objects are sure to fly.
I need baggage to squeeze the fly-aways tight,
so that I might not lose these pieces of mine.
You will need to keep steadfast to me;
I know it will be a perilous ride.
I assure you I will grasp your handle,
so long as you grasp mine.
Yes, I am looking for baggage that goes with mine:
some one who will travel by my side until we reach the world’s edge.