My heart is an overflowing suitcase my red dress you liked so much the one with the horses is spilling out along with that jumper you wore once and the shirt i bought for 50p in bricklane
my insecurities have been buried deep but they are demanding to see the sun now
i sit on my suitcase in a crowded airport
i don't know where i'm going
all i have is this overflowing suitcase, no ticket, where am i going?
Many strangers have walked by, some had friendly faces so i whispered sometimes shouted:
'a little help'
mostly non have stopped
the few that have, leave me with old memories they no longer want to hold on to and i've become accustomed to carrying the burdens... i think they can see it on my face
so i pretend i have room in my suitcase
after all i'm not really going anywhere
and they seem to be