i found an old USB drive,
the one my first college gave us,
and i know that there used to be poetry
on it–
the first poems i wrote
that weren’t
primary school assignments
or
teenage angst arrangements

but i haven’t opened it up and plugged it in yet

there are a few logical [and illogical] reasons for that:

first and foremost
none of my laptops have a USB port
any longer
(this is easily rectified
by the external bricks
that connect
most cords
with our computers–
i’m not 100% sure there’s a USB connection
on that thing
but i’m assuming
it is
more than likely)

the second is that
i don’t think i’d find
any surprises
there–
i saved all my college essays elsewhere
as well,
and if i were to go digging
i’d probably find
exactly the poems i had in mind–
so what’s the use
of trying to get my laptop to read
a fifteen year old piece of technology
to not unearth any fun finds

but surprises inside
are my third
hesitation
reason–
what if i
actually put on it
something i don’t necessarily want to see
now;
what if
i hid some angsty gems–
do i want that in my head
now?
and the worst surprise
i think i could find
is if there is actually nothing inside.

but look at me
not checking the brick
for a USB port,
not grabbing the drive
from the basement where it was nearly stepped upon,
not finding a way
to find out
what’s on it,
but instead writing a whole
silly
poem
about how i don’t want to know–
[but i still do want to
and that
is the
problem]