Traveler in a Suitcase!: 2020

blabbing

Vanish

I want to stay.

Not for forever.

Just long enough to hear your voice again.

It’s the only sound that doesn’t ask me to perform.

If there’s one thing I know how to do,

it’s remain quietly, inconveniently,

in the corner of your life that still remembers me.

Don’t change your mind about me yet.

I’m still learning how to be someone worth keeping.

The moon keeps reporting back to me.

Says you still look dazzling.

I believe her.

Let me rest where your pulse steadies the room.

You can call it sleep.

I’ll call it proof that I existed correctly,

for a moment.

And when I’m gone,

let me stay where dreams gather dust.

Keep a small space for me there.

Not out of love, just recognition.

Don’t erase me.

Remember the laugh that escaped by accident,

the look that forgot to be logical.

I’m not afraid of distance.

I’ve lived there.

What I fear is vanishing so cleanly

that even silence stops recognizing me.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Erased

It’s hard to be known.

I gave them memories.

Neat, labeled, and temporary.

When their expiration came,

they left quietly,

as if I had imagined them.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Rainchild

Mother kept leaving her son.

Not cruelly, just with that polite kind of sorrow

that teaches you how to disappear

without asking to be found.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

"Parochial"

You are nocuous.

You don’t even need a mouth for it.

People still echo you,

still build altars to the way you stand still,

and call it virtue.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Flowers in Low Light

Flowers follow instructions.

They open on schedule.

Keep their noise small.

Pretty is just light flattering a body that learned how to hold still.

Shh.

Wrong switch.

Try the other hush.

Teach the stem to forget noon.

Praise the absence like virtue.

They’ll call it grace and mean obedience.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

Review What i have bought from Joyseus Indonesia

Hi Hi

Ini bakal jadi pertama kalinya ditahun ini aku bakal review sesuatu mengenai barang yg aku beli (DENGAN BAHASA INDONESIA!!!)

Jadi disaat pandemi ini rasanya tangan ini gatel banget buat membeli banyak barang, and I was spending TOO MUCH money this year *nangis*

Last month aku baru saja membeli cukup banyak Barang dari Joyseus, belinya disini dan I bought a lot

Hopefully, this review Dapat membuat kalian terbantu, let's try

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Rain Lesson

Rain scrubs the glass.

Not mercy but maintenance.

When it clears, everyone tries to stare inside.

Choice is a trick, anyway.

You can track the red lights.

You can memorize the warmth.

Either way, the room will call you “fine.”

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Painted in the mirror

with blood tarnishing your clothes

you were pretty and adorable

as the death coax in

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Staying

The world updated its terms.
Speech fell under maintenance.
Openings looked like joy at first,
then rerouted to the old corridor.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Happy days

I remember the bright days like evidence in a glass case.

Borrowed light, museum air, the label reading: do not touch.

Maybe it was a dream.

Maybe i made it tidy enough to pass inspection.

It doesn’t look real now.

It looks framed.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Innocent Love

I’m touchable, not purchasable.

You can rattle the shelves, tip the glass,

but there’s no barcode on me.

Not now. Not ever.

Use the body if that makes you brave.

Rent the bruise, Scratch the lacquer, Rehearse your power.

Deed stays with me.

Title never moved.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

The Poem from Claire

I practiced being gentle the way glass learns to shine.

Polished until the fingerprints disappear.

You were kind.

The kind that doesn’t argue with light.

I was the shadow that kept learning how to move quieter.

When love broke, I did what obedient things do:

I rearranged myself and called it growth.

I named your tears “evidence,” my silence “crime.”

Villain is just the title they give the one who stays too sharp.

I can't be that girl.

I wanted the simple endings.

Your door, your bad days,

the 24-hour shift of being beside you.

I wanted to be the answer that stopped searching.

I am not that girl.

My edges refused the mold.

I kept loving like a malfunctioning fire alarm.

Too loud, too late, convinced the smoke was my fault.

You kept loving like morning.

True, patient, blameless,

and somehow I still turned the room into sirens.

If this is fairness, it is the kind that hurts clean:

you with a future that fits,

me with the ache of learning not to follow.

I will never be your home, despite all the love that you gave it to me. You can't be mine, you'll find your soulmate and I need to accept that you are not part of my life.

But when loving you was the best thing that I had. I can't believe you made my life getting better despite the hard things that we've been through. You never hurt my fragile self and you never made any tears on my cheek. Your love is the loveliest thing that I ever had and I trust you so much.

Hear me correctly: you were never the wound.

But you were the mirror where I mistook myself for it.

I saw your kindness cry and signed the confession.

So here is my clever mercy:

I call the door open.

I label the air safe.

I let the leash drop from both our throats.

Starting today, I don’t put you in my weather.

Starting today, I practice happiness that doesn’t borrow your name.

If we pass each other later.

"Strangers with a shared map"

I hope your smile lands where it was always going.

I hope I don’t flinch at quiet anymore.

I loved you.

That word is smaller than what it did to me.

Thank you for the light you kept turning on.

Thank you for naming the good in me until it answered.

You were the best part I will not keep.

Be happy, please.

Let me be wrong without making you stay to prove it.

This is me, foolish and finally brave,

unlocking the door from my side.

- Claire

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Glass with teeth

Past keeps its hands on my ankles.

One step forward, it tugs like I owe it breath.

I look over my shoulder and the air bruises.

I don’t cry. If I leak, I flood. If I flood, I disappear.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

not my world

It looks dazzling.

Museum-light on borrowed glass.

Warm faces calibrate to “welcome,”

then cool on contact.

Not my world.

It sounds epic.

Achorus trained to hit the bright notes.

Happy voices braid a net out of air,

ask me to step in.

Not my world.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Walk

I keep walking.

Not forward, just… on.

Like a cursor blinking through rooms that call themselves home

and mean “temporary shelter.”

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Our world

We were born in different weather.

You were the roof. I was the siren.

You warmed a room. I measured exits.

Call it equal if you like, two wrong answers balancing.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Why

Why do they call it strength

when the body simply refuses shutdown?

Pain pulls the fire alarm;

they file out in orderly lines and call it resilience

Why does the mask pass audit?

I polish the museum-face,

set the smile to ambient,

let the earthquake happen behind glass.

Why do they name it peace

when it’s just noise under a pillow?

I map exits, breathe on the one that unlatches,

keep myself small enough to pass through policy.

Why praise the aftermath

like the building rebuilt itself?

I’m the scaffold no one budgets for.

Bolts in my teeth, shaking.

And why, after all that,

are they permitted motion

while I am the hallway that never ends?

Strong, they say.

Survived, they say.

The machine is running.

The body complied.

I am here.

I have not moved

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Don't

Don’t say you love me

while your footsteps keep their own appointment.

Don’t say you miss me

if the room learned your shape and survived.

Don’t practice crying

when you’ve never held the after-silence of losing.

Don’t hand me promises

printed on erasable paper.

Don’t place your warmth in my palms

if it’s rented by the hour.

You change like bus schedules.

Announced, delayed, justified.

Meanwhile my love goes underground,

deeper, quieter, building tunnels you’ll never name.

Do not call this strength.

It’s compliance: a face that passes inspection.

Do not call this peace.

It’s the noise turned low enough to work in.

I won’t translate the bruise of staying.

You won’t feel the gravity of it.

You will leave correctly.

I will remain.

Unfinished, intact, and still somehow falling

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Dynamite is finally out today!

I thought i'm gonna write about another dark feelings

But need to be stopped for today because today is quite special!

I could hear BTS newest song in English

IN ENGLISH

and their melody quite put me in such an energetic mood

i Love beat song, can we hear it together?

Starting Jungkook as the intro

I REALLY MISS HIM and bighit is like granted my wish

LUCKY LUCKY

I won't type full lyrics but gonna tell you little bit:

"This is getting Heavy

can you hear the bass boom?

I'm ready

Life is sweet as honey

Yeah, this beat cha-ching like money

Disco overload, I'm into that, I'm good to go"

This is preparing me to do disco and then they 

"Cause I, I, I'm in the stars tonight

so watch me bring the fire and set the night alight

shining through the city with a little funk and soul

So I' ma light it up like dynamite, woah"

Just a little peek with the lyrics, you could find their full lyrics in anywhere i think

This song is really the song that I've been waiting for

Now I shouldn't need to translate their lyrics one by one again

You could also find the instrumental one in Spotify also

I've been repeating the song now in my spotify till i got tired with it LOL

This song is literally catchy and can't wait for another English song from BTS!!

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, by travelerinasuitcase

Something that Look Like Calm

I wish I could hate you,

but the city won’t let me file that form.

The window says maintenance.

The cursor thinks I’m exaggerating.

I wish I were the variable you needed,

the constant you solved for without notes,

instead I’m the margin math you erase

before anyone sees what it cost.

You were the answer I would not speak.
I was the question you refused to read.
How could you grasp the bruise of staying
when I learned to pass inspection by not bleeding.

I kept a seat for your arrival.

Gate open, announcement pending.

The board kept changing times,

and I kept pretending clocks were loyal.

I waited like infrastructure:

quiet, load-bearing, unpraised.

I set out the cups, labeled the drawers,

trained my hands not to shake when nothing arrived.

I told myself not to blame myself.

Then translated blame into efficiency:

reduce warmth, conserve motion,

call the ache a policy decision.

I wish I could hate you,

but you were the exit I memorized in a burning room.

I wish I could hate you,

so I could walk out without counting the steps twice.

You never came. That’s the headline.

The footnote says I understood.

Understanding is the softest prison.

Doors open, sentence ongoing.

So I archive the noise,
live at a volume that passes for peace,
and keep the light like a statistic:
low, steady, deniable.

If anyone asks, it’s about weather.

About timetables. About a house that keeps its shape.

Only I know it’s a body relearning
how to leave without leaving.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

It Hurts

Warmth is a rental.

The room keeps the receipt.

I hold the mug until the heat times out,

pretend the steam is a policy I agreed to.

Happiness passes inspection,

brief as an elevator stop.

I smile on schedule so the cameras log

“operational.” The glitch resumes between floors.

Numbness isn’t empty.

It’s frost over live wires,

quieting the sparks so the building

doesn’t learn my name.

Pain has a low visibility setting.

Public-facing: clear skies.

Backend: red banners, silent alarms,

maintenance ticket closed without repair.

I can carry it. I always do.

Carrying isn’t curing.

Scaffold is strong until the wind remembers.

Then I become angles and compliance.

They won’t see it. That was the bargain.

I keep my weather indoors.

The forecast prints “mild.”

My bones read “storm, continuing.”

Truth arrives like an expiry date

stamped into the soft part of the day.

I read it twice, underline once,

file it where the light can’t follow.

It hurts.

Of course it does.

To touch anything warm with borrowed hands,

To know the lease ends at closing time,

To lock up, lights off, still burning

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, by travelerinasuitcase

love

I’m sorry

for the malfunction

For the way my system chooses blackout to keep the lights on.

You’ve seen the ash-version of me.

Everyone prefers the museum-white.

I love you in the way policies love compliance:

without ceremony, underlined once, filed where hands don’t reach.

If I had to describe you perfectly,

I’d use the word I don’t believe in and mark it “redacted.”

My boy,

not a boy.

A constant.

Life keeps auditing the structure.

I fall like loose screws.

You keep standing like load-bearing.

I wish for the impossible the way trains wish for extra track.

If this route ends here, fine.

Leave a transfer slip at the edge of the map.

I’ll meet you next timetable.

Future with you

can't be imagined

present with you

is happiness

Don't forget about past

that you were mine

Don't forget about the future

that I will always pray for your happiness

A future with you doesn’t render; the present does.

Clean, minimal, enough.

Happiness arrives stamped “temporary use,”

but the warmth fits my hands like it was measured.

Don’t forget the archive that says we were once the same room.

Don’t forget the unsigned plan where your name keeps reappearing.

And if memory asks for proof, give it this:

I stayed in place so you’d have a fixed point to navigate by.

If anyone asks, it’s just weather.

Privately: it’s a storm that learned my schedule.

Public-facing: I’m fine.

Backend: I’m praying you stay unbroken.

And if we can’t share this life,

I’ll wait at the next checkpoint,

quiet as a green light,

pretending it isn’t for me

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, by travelerinasuitcase

can't reach you

I learned to love like a rental.

Warmth with a due date. A key they can cancel remotely.

When I hold it longer, the system flags me:

excess usage. suspected attachment.

You were built for departure.

My hands were built for checking locks twice.

When I reach, the air compliantly steps back

and pretends it wasn’t meant to be touched.

Skyfall looks tidy from the lobby.

The ceiling drops in increments, approved by Engineering.

I close my eyes to pause the audit,

to keep the last frame from updating your absence.

When I can’t see you, I almost keep you.

Time goes quiet like a well-trained guard dog.

I name that quiet mercy, then log it as a fault.

Either way, the cameras nod.

You tell me you can walk alone.

I lower my ego like an umbrella in the wind.

Not surrender, just physics.

Even ballast knows when to let the ship rise without it.

Love is a puzzle with pieces that refuse photographs.

I assemble the outline, label the missing with barcodes,

file the ache under “recurring,”

pay the fee for continuing.

If there is another corridor after this one,

I’ll meet you where the lights don’t buzz,

where the weather stops asking for proof.

Not as a promise. As a constant I couldn’t solve here

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, by travelerinasuitcase

weather report (unfiled)

I can dial it brighter when you answer,

turn a Sunday that sours at noon.

Into something with a seam of color.

No one will question.

(I'll call it weather. you’ll know it’s you.)

My weather was dark efficiently.

Now it lifts by small percentages,

decimal shifts no one else would bother to read.

I don’t audit the worst anymore.

That’s our secret breach of protocol.

You’re the best variable i was never allowed to graph.

you won’t stay printed in my sky, fine.

Then let the memory of you do the work:

Two brushstrokes layered until the light learns our names,

Until a passerby says, "nice palette", and walks on.

Love fades like signage in rain.

But signage leaves a ghost where it hung.

I’ll keep that outline. I'll keep your shape

pressed under the eyelid.

Bright enough to navigate by.

If the future arrives with its usual clipboard,

i’ll be busy with eyes closed,

tracking a wingbeat just left of the sun,

pretending it’s a bird, not a fact.

With you,

I would have flown. I would have said yes out loud.

But if flight is a place we only rent for a minute,

let me keep the ticket stub.

I’ll file it under weather.

You’ll read the code.

Everyone else will say, “nice sky today."

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

mad love

Don’t say love

if you can’t hold the aftermath.

Don’t say need

with your suitcase open.

You like a tidy narrative.

I’m the problem; you’re the plot.

To my face you crown me “best,”

to the room you brief “containment.”

You love stories that much?

Fine. I’ll give you more data than you can graph.

You didn’t lock the door.

You just let the hinges rust.

Called it weather. Called it time.

Said you hated cages while resting in mine.

I went still the way buildings do.

Load-bearing, quiet, certified safe.

You called that “cold.”

I called it passing inspection with a crack in the wall.

You liked me powerless.

Not gone, useful. Available hate,

kept in the cabinet for nights you needed a villain

to make your hero read clearer.

Predictable, to me.

Illegible, to everyone else.

They said I was sick.

But your hands wrote the diagnosis.

Don’t say love

if the first emergency is always my fault.

Don’t say need

while practicing exits.

We broke each other, yes.

But only one of us learned to sweep.

So take your bow, protagonist.

I’ll be the outline left after rain,

the signage ghost no one admits seeing.

Still pointing, even when the letters are gone.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

breaks me

I keep finding batch codes on feelings.

Best-by dates stamped in quiet ink.

Fresh at opening. Then the aftertaste.

A lesson with sugar on it.

It isn’t bouquets or pretty receipts anymore.

Not laugh-track small talk,

not your tidy talent for warmth on schedule.

Affection used to arrive gift-wrapped;

now it shows up as terms and conditions.

You were the opening offer.

Sweet on the first page,

costly in the footnotes.

I told myself not to care.

Most days I pass inspection.

On others, the room flickers.

Why doesn’t love hold temperature?

Days move; you recalibrate.

You promised a bridge that would stay,

then filed for maintenance and took the road.

I keep a private theory: I am hard to merchandise.

Hairline cracks under perfect glaze.

I translate that into policy: reduce demand,

smile at the audit, don’t leak.

If there’s a game, I’ll learn the rulebook,

shuffle the cards without asking the dealer for mercy,

call the restlessness “weather,”

and stand very still until it passes.

You were an intro offer.

Sweet at first.

Now you optimize for yourself.

I say it doesn’t matter.

My hands disagree

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Yours truly

You wanted the glow, not the voltage.

A smile without the current.

You keep calling yourself fragile and then ask for storms.

I learned the forecast. I stood very still.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

When did i notice?

When was the last time the floor tilted.

When was the last time the glass hummed.

When was the last time the lungs filed a complaint.

When was the last time the lights forgot my name.

I wish it lived far back in the archive.

Today, the air miscalculates.

My head drafts an exit memo.

Good things dim like screensavers;

the rest stays pinned.

Sleep is a hallway with motion sensors,

step once and alarms.

Speech is a form to be filed,

every answer invites an audit.

So I practice forgetting

like it’s a second language.

No more theater in the skull.

Unsubscribe from storms.

I tell the shadow at the door:

wrong address.

It doesn’t leave.

Apparently it has a key I never issued.

It waits like a stray with my handwriting.

We are poorly matched soulmates:

it drinks my air; I set out clean bowls.

Inside, something red writes without ink.

Even so, something recalibrates.

I am not the only light on this street.

Not every hand is a ledger.

Little storm, you are not always wrong.

The answer I kept outsourcing circles back with my face.

Weak is a weather report, not a name.

Today is a low tide, not a prophecy.

Good days are queueing by the door.

I will not cancel them.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Differences

I keep my face on silent mode.

Yours ships with prayer hands.

When we pass, the streetlights vote.

Guess who glitches, who gets called a storm.

I file feelings like invoices.

You comp the room and call it mercy.

When the scaffolding drops, the crowd points at the one

already carrying the warnings.

You’re pure the way snow is, until a tire finds it.

I’m a stair without railings, use at your own risk.

Together we make headlines that say “incident,”

but the photo only prints my shadow.

We are the same in the places no one knows:

hairline glass, soft alarms, the old animal that hates empty bowls.

We are different in public:

you do velvet, I do truth.

I told you not to touch the red wire.

You touched it and practiced innocence.

I learned to hold the current without blinking

so the room could go on pretending the lights weren’t mine.

Call me the problem; it paints faster.

You keep “gentle,” I keep “warning.”

We both crack. Only one of us gets labeled the hammer.

You swindle with a choir in the background.

I refuse the ribbon and become the bruise.

When I fell, you logged surprise like a souvenir.

Tell me again you needed me.

You only needed an exit that applauds.

If a culprit must be chosen, pick the one who doesn’t beg.

Fine. Take the halo. Keep the sound off.

I’ll keep the sirens in my mouth.

We both know who paid in body.

We both know who got a refund.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Ballast

My chest keeps the ground on a leash.

Wings file complaints; gravity signs them.

Protocol says: drop ballast.

Experience says: ballast bites.

Crowds knock like loose shutters.

I keep the face that passes trial.

They test for turbulence anyway,

then ask why I don’t lift.

The math stays the same:

heavy heart, low ceiling.

The frame is aircraft-grade,

the engine isn’t.

Why am I notarizing strangers’ weather

when no one co-signs mine?

Why do I tape my mouth closed

while their knives practice public speaking?

Numb isn’t mercy; it’s a switch.

Scars don’t ping the dashboard.

The fuselage just lists a little,

and I learn a new angle to stand.

So: drop ballast, they say.

But ballast remembers its owner.

Release is another word for teeth,

and I’ve already paid the landing fee.

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Past, let it pass by

When I keep thinking about the past, I know I'm still regretting what I did in the past. I feel restless, the memories are like a movie that keeps representing in my mind. My past was great but also put me into despair. I wish I could only remember good memories and burns the bad ones. I wish this does not affect the present me.

But no, my memories were too strong and it truly affected me in the present

I keep telling myself, I'm learning from my past. Sometimes my past was affecting my mental issues. All I can do is only stop thinking until it passes by

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

You

The tears falling
and you never know
I'm getting tired day by day
and you're still far away
I'm getting restless and despair
But you're never here

If only you know how much I need you
Please come to me
I can't bear the tears that keep falling out
I don't know how to find the light in my heart
But I know only you can heal the darkness in my heart

Nobody but you
Nobody but you
come here sooner
please come here sooner

I wish this only a dream
and I wish I could find you when I'm awake
and I wish you'll be there hug me tightly
as the sign of stopping my misery

I really need you here
Nobody but you
Nobody but you
please Come here sooner

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Love, I need you

I know you can't sleep at night
You're telling me your chest is in pain, can't catch your breath
I don't know how much misery you had
But I just want you to know I'm here

I will not judge you
Don't tell me to leave you alone
Because I won't ever leave
The misery that you have
I might not understand
But I will always be with you

Love, I can't wait to see your smile again
I wish I could take your long-suffering
If only my existence could heal the pain
I want you to know I love you for who you are

Please don't tell me you can't do this
Because it made me devastated and distraught
I only wish you could overcome this
I know you can

Love, you are strong
But you don't know it
If only you could hear my words
You might understand how great you are

Love, you are born with kindness
You're the best that I ever know
I love you and I won't ever be leaving you

I will not judge you
Don't tell me to leave you alone
Because I won't ever leave
The misery that you have
I might not understand
But I will always be with you

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Babe

No one could make my day feels bright as you do

Your smile made my heart feeling warm

Your big hand so gentle, make me fall asleep in your hug

Babe

I might not perfect, and dull

I might be frail, disappointing you

But you never sighing on me

Babe

Your presence makes me alive

I never wanted to die anymore

I just wanna be here beside you and seeing your face

Babe

I don't want anything else

I just want you

and I am hoping you want me back

Babe

You're getting far now

I can't reach you

why were you walking so fast?

Babe

I love you

and I really do

why did fate want to tear us apart?

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, by travelerinasuitcase

blabbing

Despair

Nothing could understand how painful your life is

Looking fine in the outside but full of despair inside

Life looks fine and normal but it's not

The stress keeps coming, and consuming almost all the parts of your body

it's so stressful, I feel like I can't walk

I feel like all that I can do is only sleep in my room

breathing is hard, all that I can wish is only stop breathing and not thinking anything

nobody will understand how hard it is to live like this

People will only think about themself

I hate it, I really hate it

But does not mean I could surrender from all of this pain

In order to be able to walk, to breathe free

I need to take the risks

No matter how hard it is to live

I will live

For someone who had trust in myself that I'm strong

That I'm the strongest person that he ever met

That believes in me, no matter how fragile I looked in his eyes

You

Who could brighten my day, who could wipe the tears in my cheeks

Who could pour me sunlight in my day, cleared the darkness in my heart

You

who always trying to respect all of my decisions. Even it's also hard for you either. I'm Sorry

Even I have to be alone now, even the world is such a scary place to live

I wiped my tears while typing this, and tomorrow I need to go to my war again

Let me see your smile in your face again, someday

with love,

from the one that you can't have

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, by travelerinasuitcase

Newer
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Traveler in a Suitcase!

Vanish

Erased

Rainchild

"Parochial"

Flowers in Low Light

Review What i have bought from Joyseus Indonesia

Rain Lesson

Staying

Happy days

Innocent Love

The Poem from Claire

Glass with teeth

not my world

Walk

Our world

Why

Don't

Dynamite is finally out today!

Something that Look Like Calm

It Hurts

love

can't reach you

weather report (unfiled)

mad love

breaks me

Yours truly

When did i notice?

Differences

Ballast

Past, let it pass by

You

Love, I need you

Babe

Despair

Bonjour!

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