Imagination

 

"How I remember the day you lent me your favorite jacket and you took me a photo while I was hiding in it, to sniff it — it breathes like you. I had it in my skinny body until we called it a day. At the same moment, I was afraid to let it go and return it to you because of the warmth that felt like home. 

It happened. You brought it with you when you left. My heart. I left it underneath the sleeves that melted me up to roads walking home.

Until it became just an imagination of home. It all became stand-alone. But way different from what I felt that day.

The door became locked with my keys, making me stand in the rain for hours. The ceiling that I looked up to became a battleground of my overthinking.  The floor when I walk felt like walking on a tightrope of being unwanted. The kitchen never served me freshly baked plans and brewed hopes for us. The window darkened with hesitation to clear the feelings between us. The roof that never protected my name towards the storm which you also navigated.

From your favorite jacket, I just imagine that I became your favorite too somehow.

Again, this home —was just an imagination.

That maybe in my imagination, we can still make it."

—Jhunamae Moja (imagination,Smnllyl)

Journal Date: 11.02.2019