I Don’t Deserve You

in my messy house
with my overdue paperwork
and all of these thoughts
of dissatisfaction,
I don’t deserve you,
perhaps my reasons for
never walking up
saying, “Hi, I’m me and
I keep noticing you
playing guitar and
singing out your heart”,
is because
I don’t deserve you,
you might be messy too
and self-hating in every way
yet still I’d believe it,
you’re too lovely
I don’t deserve you.

In the end, I just couldn’t make it this year. It shocks me because most years before I have been in school but done better than this. However, I don’t think I realized in undergrad how easy my life was! Here’s the closing poem for May 1st.


Thick Fog

I don’t want to take a step
feeling so frozen by
other’s questions, unimportant
but somehow awakening
my nervousness, my
quiet disease, and I keep
standing here, standing
and not dancing,
I should’ve gone out more
back then, I could’ve been
flying higher now
but instead I’m on the ground,
this boy asked me
if I’m always so still
like a robot, like a tin man
rusted over and
unable to move,
and I told him no, but now
I wonder if I told the truth,
Standing frozen, the
future lurks like a still
thick fog, I can’t see and
I can’t speak.


It’s too hard to feel loved
I hate myself for
all the trash in my kitchen
piled up and molding,
I wonder if I’ll ever be
ready for others to
come in unexpectedly,
What I want and what
I give myself is so different,
Why do I live in this cycle endlessly?
Dirty dishes, greasy sheets,
since the time he came here
to sleep, I need to
wipe away those flaws
stop procrastinating,
I just feel too tired to properly
accomplish things.


Deep forest green are the trees,
their backdrop the gray

Jeju skies of winter,
we fly
down a mountain road, it
reminds me of that time
I broke through
the clouds
sleeping over the island,
but I could still see
Mt. Halla,
“jejune” sounds like
Jeju, and it echoes my past
of naive happiness
as if I were screaming
into a canyon,
but instead of returning
my voice just keeps travelling
on and on and lost forever,
a song repeats
in my head, it tastes
like cigarette smoke,
car exhaust, and
fried red bean bread,
steaming warm
in my gloved hands,
bought in a grimy subway station
in old Seoul,
the young man
who is singing, he knows
the dreary days I
keep seeing, he feels
this lukewarm winter,
painting the landscape
a dull pallet
of breathtaking wonders
gone cold, and
old joys made
I wrote this about winter in Jeju, and the depressed feelings I experienced during my winter here. One of the things that made me feel better during that time was Kim Namjoon’s mixtape, as I felt like he understood what I was going through. I wanted to capture that experience for a long time, but I couldn’t really write until I started feeling better.