The little things

Total systems failure

I had a great idea for a poem, about passing notes in a physics test, but then my ipod crashed, and everything came down.

I know I shouldn't be so material about things, it's just an item. But the thing is to me it holds my entire world, so when it had a total systems failure, I did too.

It holds the passwords to all my accounts, because my head is so filled with lyrics and ideas, there simply isn't room for that kind of thing.

In the notes are little one liners, that I have grown to love, extracts from stories of which the book pages are faded and well loved. Little things that I insist on remembering.

I have links to videos and articles, things I want to revisit. In fact in one section there's a whole story has been written.

It is my portal to worlds I can escape into, the screen through which I watch people I feel I have known forever, and never even met.

And now it lays on my bed beside me, plugged into the charger in some hopes of reviving it. I took it's case off, to stop it over heating, and haven't touched it in a while, in fear of it breaking.

It's familiar shiny blue shell and glossy black screen, could lead you to mistake thinking it was dead.

I know it has no soul, no being or existence, but I can't help this hollow feeling, like part of me is missing.

It has become an appendage, a crutch on which I lean, supported me through nights of tears, containing all I feel.

So when my ipod had a total systems failure, I sit by its side, knowing that without it, I will have one too.