Purple Moon

Yes, you were once a river
crystalline blue and beautiful,
I was a shooting star
which came crashing
into the marshes of your banks,
my brilliancy lost
I became a demon
and chased the wind
grasping for nothingness
until this moment,
drawn into your arms
scar-marked and blood-stained
with the dragon’s spirit
dwelling in your depths,
my bare, pale flesh kissed
by your tragedy,
the unbearable cold
seeping
through your breastbone
and into my heart,
as Mars glimmers overhead
a shooting star softly says
“it’s time to go home.”

Grieve Now

It’s ok,
you might’ve torn away but
hearts don’t stop beating
without a mutual agreement,
it’s ok,
he might blame you the rest of
his life, but that’s just proof
there’s no need to blame yourself,
it’s ok,
just admit that you feel hurt and
betrayed, just show the world your pain
through ugly tears,
it’s ok,
to say you are not ok, even after
you’re the one who said the words
you’re the one who ran away,
it’s ok,
to be a selfish bitch who runs around
parading the band aid you found
for the blood rushing out of your chest,
it’s ok,
to be the quiet one who just wants to hide,
to scream your heart out in the night
to think about yourself for a while.

Unanswered

rest in peace,
rest in peace, I repeated
if only I knew
are you resting in peace?
the cold sky stretches beyond us
with no reply,
it does not open its frozen lips
it simply grows darker
turning its face away,
the blue winter night
filling up my eyes,
I saw your empty room
shadows crawling in,
I saw the quiet kitchen
so much like my own,
I saw the coal briquette
the symbol of winter comfort,
and then
I saw you sleeping
in the December twilight,
and you were to never
awaken,
my heart went deep down
into the pits
of my soul,
looking for you.

did you cry?
did you think twice?
before you chose to die?
we stand unanswered
in a vast white space
a frozen lake, an empty wasteland
you are gone
you cannot speak
you cannot live
ever again.

Americana

six days ago, I was a better person
and now I know I’m not, I
realize your flat “a’s” and the
words your lips make are probably
unique to the place I left,
and I want to cry, because
the hell do I know
why I’m here
or what I want from you
or anyone else for that matter,
I’m just drifting around
inside my own mind
it’s the 4th of July and nothing
reminds me of home
but these
insatiable, unstoppable,
inevitable lonely nights
and nothing can cure me.

anxiety

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.

Dismal

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,

loneliness

painting the landscape

a dull pallet

of breathtaking wonders

gone cold, and

old joys made

lifeless.

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.