yejunee

every now and then, i am lying in bed 

and want to wake up so badly i could 

scream for it. surely this is not all there is. 

surely this is only a dream, a bad dream, 

and the world is kinder beyond it. 

someday it'll be too 

late. someday you'll wish 

you had hugged them tighter. 

you thought you would see them 

again. you thought 

endings didn't happen this way, 

no warning, no reason, just 

if you wrap your hand around your mother's wrist 

your fingers will touch. how 

do you come to terms with that? how 

do you learn that your father's shoulders 

can no longer bear your weight, can barely 

event horizon--

boundary of a black hole beyond which not even light can escape--

a point of no 

return 

so imagine, my dear, a color 

that is not a color 

that is colorless, if you will, 

there's a hurricane tomorrow, but we still 

have school. hurricane, and you can smell it 

boiling on the horizon, a heady, light-headed 

sort of feeling, but my brother and i 

sit together in the courtyard 

anxiety goes tick-tick-tick 

in the monochrome metronome of clockwork clicking 

yet the key keeps turning, turning, turning, 

'till creaking cogs are fit to crack 

and gears wound up and ready to