"I was so sure that our home door will close one day
I watched you leave with the key as my access to it
I wish I'm tapping your back when you're drunk by your negativity.
But we all have our own little excuses and our own little unspoken truths
I wished to be the back of your hand when you cry
But I messed up once again. Once more.
You left.
And I should be okay with it, I should let you off
I should stay, and don't chase you anymore.
Letting you sail away hurts, it badly hurts
And I think that the deepest wound that you left me is when I became a poet
Because I wished I found myself first before I found it in your eyes
And I always seek home since I saw a home in you, but home seems so far away now.
Your life seems measured waves, aligned shore, and toned splashes—it is perfectly made
And dewdrops in my hair at night, being jealous with things that make up your day, being blamed, and being lost will be okay.
I deserve it.
But please, open the door for me when it's right and when it's not right, it's okay.
One day, that door won't bother me anymore —not even pushing different keys for it because I knew it won't work.
Someday, when you give that key away and I see it in another warm hand, it will be okay."
—Jhunamae Moja (home,smnllyl)
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