"Memory" - Younha

Outside the white world silently slips in as  snow gently falls and frost freezes over. Night descends, but the lamp posts stand unfazed with their orbs of old light and the cold viciously cuts through air without a trace of sound.

I shiver quietly in my covers. But your breathing next to me calms me down, minute by minute as time melts between us in our heat. Snuggling into your embrace, dreams trickle in slowly till they wash over me. And in your arms I can't help but feel safe, a blissful happiness, a warmth that radiates from both our hearts. I sigh in comfort and sink into you.

But when the morning comes,

The bed is empty, cold.

And I find you gone. 

"Drops"- Jungle

and sometimes i wish i were a piano.
yours.
so you can play me with your dancing fingers on my back.
coaxing melodies out of my heart.
to sing only to you.

but you play for someone else.

"Love is inexpressible... except when it's broken" - Leonard Chen

Hazy clouds drift silently above in the cover of night. Light becomes trapped. Within orbs of glass, reflections of puddles, the glint of dark windows. But the window pane is cold tonight. Fogged up, it shuts her in and shuts her out.

And so she sits up alone. Stuck. Tears silently drip while the night does only to cover her with a cold blanket and hand her a cup of melancholy. 

"Suddenly I'm hit. Is this the darkness of the dawn?" - James Blake

let me be.
while i slip back into my hiding place.
too much light,
the black will descend to calm me once more.
so let me be.
while the storm rages on outside.

"Just leave your heart to the swaying swing while looking up to the sky. Then you'll really see your own feelings."

Shy eyes, comfortable laughs.

An ambiguous closeness settles over us while our stories intertwine with the wisps of smoke that rise from our cups of coffee.

And I wonder if you can hear my thoughts.

Hidden in the small silences between our twirling words, they hide behind my smile, they stay guarded and trapped.

Repressed.

Concealed by the depths of the forbidden.

But oh how they leap at the sight of you, a touch, your sound. A longing that lingers though I try to muffle with conflicted feelings. 

And in this odd space between us, unspoken words seem to speak more. Whispering gently of a perhaps. A perhaps. 

I ponder your mind. 

I ponder your voice.

I dream dreams that perhaps only I dream. 

But this secret I will keep.

My love that has fallen asleep.

Am I a man who just awoke from a dream that I was a butterfly, or a butterfly who has not yet awoken from a dream that he is man?

Expired. 
I lay on my bed staring at the sunlight that slipped through my window shades. The wind mingled with the billowing curtains and the clock ticked obnoxiously loud in my ears. How steady and slow time plodded at the moment, yet soon night would come. today would be yesterday, and tomorrow would be today—in an instant. We have so much, yet so little in the world. 
And I felt expired. 

But water blinks on contact and chaotically explodes in jet black—a loud and bold statement. Slow motion catches the pigment in an instant, and the black seeps slowly deeper down leaving trails of color in answer. Ink dances. It twirls. It swirls. From dark streams diffusing into wispy clouds, ink floats ever so gracefully in water. 
In its own world, it is beautiful.

"I go to seek a great perhaps" - François Rabelais

He sits there
head throbbing, thoughts pulsing painfully through his mind.

Hands shake, cold air bites,

wisps of smoke rise

And he sighs his emotions out

In white swirls, his thoughts float away, drifting off to melt into air. 

But sinking into his calm

the smell of cigarettes lingers only to bring the memories all back.

How do I reach you? 

when I know my words cannot heal. when I know my hugs cannot help.

while I sit here lonely and you sit there alone. behind a screen of smoke lost in your own world. 

How do I reach you?

"And when you’re standing in the rain 할 수 있는 게 별로 없지 내리는 그 비와 함께 이 마음도 젖어가겠지" - Nell, Standing in the Rain

his quiet voice fills my head
so loud so sweet
sinking into me
so i can't hear my thoughts
nor his words

--

Title: "And when you're standing in the rain, there's not much we can do. For our hearts will become wet along with the rain"- Nell, Standing in the Rain

"Most of us remain strangers to ourselves, hiding who we are, and ask other strangers, hiding who they are, to love us." - Leo Buscagli

I always wondered what she looked at.
Because she gazed out the window.
At the sky. At the airplanes. Above the tips of trees and buildings.
As if she were running. Away and away.
Along with the birds that flew so freely and the clouds that drifted lazily across the world.
What did she look at?
A world all her own, tucked within the slips of her small smiles. A melody only sweeter because it ceases to exist. Held perfect, in that silence, more beautiful in imagination.
The air held its breath as if the moment itself wanted to stretch and yawn and sit idly next to her.

If only I could catch her. her thoughts. her heart.
If only she would look at me. For I was always looking at her.

"Be the calm in the center of the noise. Be the eye at the heart of the storm."

It was a timid knock at first.
Quiet, subtle.
A whisper to slip under the door again, to ease back in time when everything was still.

Silence.

She knocked once again.
Louder, adding rhythm to the beats.
A playful edge. Perhaps they will notice now she's changed. Look at her life, her vitality, her smile. 

Silence. 

The door loomed in front of her instead. Growing, growing. Darker.
"Mom?" the little girl asked hesitantly. 

"Mom?" "Dad?"
She knocked again. More frantically. Banging, screaming, kicking. 
Did they not hear her? Will they not hear? Her efforts became more desperate and 
Anxiety seized her from behind, choking her, strangling the breath from her. Black stains began to bleed. 
around her neck and in her heart. Fear. It was Fear.

Gone. Gone. They were gone. And she was abandoned. 
Shut out in the world of black corruption and decay 
And the knowingly ignorant just
forgot.
Living their pure fantasies inside the protected and clean house.

"Dirty," they said. "She was too dirty," they whispered.
Indeed. White. They saw only white. But with eyes black, darker than the world they made, winking sinister grins.

"Poetry is always close kin to the impossible, isn’t it?" - Alvin Feinman

Sing to me, my love.
And I will spin stories that fill the empty cup in your heart.

Sing to me, my love.
And I will dance with you eternally as your other half, your other hand.

Sing for me, my love.
And I will be yours forevermore.

---

To spin, to twirl, to dance. Alas this happiness, I hope your last strands will not escape my reaching fingers. And instead I will be immortal. In this snapshot, this moment, and time. My etched words to walk on ahead of me.

"Something's wrong when you regret things that haven't happened yet" - 1940

There are times when I suddenly freeze and a numbness creeps up from my legs. Hairs raise with its ascent  till it paralyzes my entire nerves. And I sit stuck. In a certain horror of all the things in the world. The list grows longer and the images become unimaginable and instead the feeling lingers. It stains and crawls. And I bend and twist. Stretch to get rid of it. But the strangling feeling. Just grips tighter till my heart feels too squeezed to breathe. Claustrophobia. It whispers. Schizophrenia. Terror. Faster. faster faster and the beat speeds up and space closes in and you just can't

escape.

And so I stay shot. From the gun created by the world. Still infected in sleep.

"How embarrassing. I just went to hug the sexiest person I know, and I ran into the mirror" - Kyle Fisher

you can run
but you can't hide

i think that's the scariest thing ever.

"Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep, thinking about the things that we could be" - OneRepublic

and for some reason 

the girl who got knocked down 

just couldn't

get up 

again

"Rise up from that tomb of failures and clear your eyes, so you may know the wonders of life once more."

it hurts to smile

the sound of rain can't heal me now

not anymore

alas what is this despair that poisons my veins

"Murderous looks keeping each other in check When I turned around after running for a long time I had lost my innocence and become a villain No one will forgive me" - Zico

i wonder why i'm so fascinated by slow motion
to see figures people life
snap back rewind time move gracefully in air as if it were water. a thicker viscosity. a more beautiful art.
but of course more agony. strain.
frustration.
is this fear?

because i can't stand that crash. the fleeting speed of time.
so i stare at the crash test see the airbag slowly blossom right before
death

and with each light follows the shadow
i can delude myself but now with longer time to stare at my demise
inevitably fated for this swing of motion yet i can't escape

crashing
i don't see my airbag
do i need it? do i want it? will it ever come and will it save me...

from what though.

save me from what.

...
in the end i don't know
in the end isn't this just all in my mind
in the end doesn't all of this not exist?

"The endless winter, frozen Seoul. Looked towards the sky; it was clouded, the shade of you all over" - Nell

you sit tucked away in a corner while around
chatter swirls up in wisps with the steam from teacups
piano footsteps brush the air while
rain softly falls outside
falling falling
falling

pitter patter pitter patter
dancing light, frivolous sounds
a turn here, a leap of faith there
some days you sit alone musing nothingness
too tired to think, too tired to picture thoughts and form words

there's a certain comfort while you watch others
bustle and hustle sweeping in and out
to carry on their own busy lives, worry their own worries
but you
you're frozen
at least for a moment in time
suspended in air

and you can't help but hope
when the time comes for you to fall
you won't come crashing down.

“I don’t know about my love. I don’t know about my lovin' anymore. All that I know is I’m fallin, fallin, fallin, fallin…” - James Blake

Isn't it weird. When I am at loss for words. And when I don't know my own. When I am silent with uncertainty and when nervousness bubbles up.

That is when

I fall.

"And everyday my world is spinning with you at the center. Hey do you know?"

how do you heal a heart. when it's been so shattered beyond repair.
how do you heal a soul. when it's been bruised and beaten up beyond repair.
how do you heal a mind. when it's been destroyed and mutilated beyond repair.

how do you save a life. how do you cure this sickness.
this sickness so ingrained into a person.

"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music." - Friedrich Nietzsche

here we sit on a bench resting on clouds. a deep and penetrating blue. just you and i
we laugh as we recall memories, tell stories, looking into each other's eyes perhaps windows to our hearts

but the wind blows softly of change. slowly it floats by but i will wish it come slower.
for when the train comes you will board on your journey
and i will have to go on mine

where will it take us, where do we stop?
and when we pass by each other, will you have the same longing that leaps in my soul?

Long ago~

Where has our time gone? Odd, when it seemed yesterday the world was in our hands only to rise to a broken tomorrow. Alas, the grains of sand have finally slipped between our fingers without us noticing, and we must follow the scattered wind.
Out we go empty handed, but full in our hearts and memories. Open minds and curious souls. We will journey separately, but never alone. Dear dear seniors. Thank you for these remarkable past years. Words will never be enough. Travel safely.

"People are so vulnerable at night. They're willing to spill out their soul to anyone willing to listen. They have desires to do things that never cross their mind when the sun is in the sky."

it's during nights like these i can't help but stay up
in the dark that swirls around me
breathing, a pulse
perhaps i'm not alone.

it's during nights like these i can't help but wonder
if sometimes
we're thinking the same thoughts
wandering in the same dream
feeling the same feelings

if we're both look at the same sky, the same moon, then are we not
together
next to each other
at least for a glimpse of time, a short moment, at least a fleeting second
...?

but what is this small hope of mine that
flutters and glows and fades.

it's during time like these i can't help but wish imagination were real.