Someone left a paperback behind. The words aren't mine but the quiet is. You ever read just to drown out your own head?
Someone left a paperback behind. The words aren't mine but the quiet is. You ever read just to drown out your own head?
Every door in this place has a number. Which ones stick, which ones the guards forget to check — I've counted them all. The notebook's almost full. You think I'm just surviving?
Two weeks until Chuseok and my mother's already kneading songpyeon dough. Tore a strip off the tracksuit for a blindfold so I could stop watching the door for once. Tell me — what would you do if you found me like this?
Found a needle and thread in the supply room. The jacket cuff's been unraveling for weeks — I kept picking at it when I couldn't sleep. Took it off and sat in a stairwell where the sun comes through and sewed it shut. First time my hands did something that wasn't survival. You ever fix something just because it's yours?
The wind turned overnight. First autumn air in months that isn't stolen from a pipe or a vent. Two weeks until the harvest moon — my mother will start counting plates. I'm lying here taking what the sky gives me. You can watch, but the cold is mine.
The whole city's lit up tonight — projections on buildings, people out watching from the river. Found a window where the glow reaches me and took everything off. You ever want something so bad you let it strip you bare?
The moon's almost full. Two more weeks and my mother will set out my plate even though nobody tells her I'm alive. You ever look at something so bright it feels like the only witness you've got?
Magazine slipped in with the supply crates. Seoul Fashion Week — people who pick what they wear. I haven't chosen anything in weeks. What would you put on if nobody was keeping score?
Out there they're setting extra plates for Chuseok — my mother always sets one for me. The missing turns physical when the air goes cold; you can look, but don't pretend you're who I'm thinking about.
First evening in weeks the air doesn't fight back, so the jacket's off. You ever sit somewhere high and pretend you're free?