blue suitcase 

i start a runaway inspiration folder.
street signs & shoes & a house 
in an unknown countryside. 
on tiktok i keep seeing videos of people
who never stop traveling. a month in each country.
i do not want this for myself but maybe i do. 
you can get wrapped up in remedy-thinking.
this is what i need then this then this. 
the wind keeps making birds each morning. 
i see a video of one white girl
in thailand who says, "i was never home
until i came here." i feel confused about
what home means to me & what home means
to her & what the distance is there.
being a poet is maybe less about charting gaps
as it is about surfacing them. the more i talk
the less i understand language. i used to have
a blue suitcase. i packed it when i wanted
to leave home but i had no where to go.
as a little girl i would fill it with stuff animals
& sunflower seeds. i would carry it to the park.
open the suitcase beneath my favorite tree
& welcome the bug neighbors. the suitcase used
to belong to my aunts. i like to imagine what
& how they filled it. did they fold their dresses
or toss them in like i usually do with my own clothes.
they seem like fold-dress people. my favorite part
about the suitcase was its hard shell the color
of a really picture-book blue sky. if you weren't careful
it would try to return to the heavens,
socks & all. the last time i packed it i think i was
coming back from a break between semesters
of college. i wondered if i could fit my whole body
into the suitcase. if then i could beg
someone else to carry me. the girl's video is short.
i wonder if she sleeps with a fan or if
she's one of those people who like to let
the dark feast on their bones. i am the former 
though sometimes my nights are full of 
blue suitcases. i have gone our to the car & started
the engine with nowhere to go. where it is, 
i hope the suitcase is full.