The Weight in the Corners

I pulled the zipper again,

stubborn teeth gnashing on threadbare cloth—

its bite too sharp to close the past.

Old shirts folded and wrinkled,

a memory spilled beneath the strap,

pushed down like promises that stretched thin.

Each corner bulged,

a silent pocket of things I meant to forget.

The suitcase labored like my heart,

refusing to lock,

heavy with undone goodbyes.