It feels weird
to finally let myself realize
that it never happened to me.
i imagined it so much,
it felt more like a memory.
is that why it still lingers in my mind?
i couldnβt seem to forgetβ
maybe thatβs why.
maybe itβs trying to tell me something.
something to realize...
that what I called a memory
was never mineβ
just a story overheard,
taken in too deeply,
by a mind too young
to guard the border
between real and imagined.











