BETWEEN THE LINES ISSUE 10 'YOU' | Page 31

Letter to an Online Suitor Hanbit Amy Kang You? Of all people?
You, you, who knows nothing about me, dares to say that you love me? All you see of me is what reflects on the outside—
No, worse, all that I choose to drift to the surface of myself
The part I would let anyone see without insecurity,
The layer of purity above the murk,
The ice atop a frozen lake.
And now you take the ultimate risk, the ultimate move of conviction
To ask of me to tell you about the depths of me,
To invite yourself to take a peek into the crevice called myself.
I? I, you ask? 

Well, well, my dear, come closer to the edge—
No, that won’t do, take a step closer
But I can’t assure your safety.
Whether the floor is feathers or spikes I don’t know myself.
But they say you are the architect of your own destruction,
Without a doubt you started the blueprint. Like any other girl, a budding rose:

I am a particle of dust in free fall orbiting the core of my universe, Desperately wishing to, but incapable of,
Becoming the core itself.
I am the pit of sin and burning desire not near half full,
But growing deeper by the day.
I am the chant that eggs me on,
I am the doubt that trips my step.
I am the devout follower of my own Holy Script:
Simultaneously I am both painfully ordinary and exceptionally bright. I wish nothing more than to stand out and be appreciated But look at me no further or I’ll whither with cowardice.
I hate myself, the epitome of homely
But I love my deviation, my stripes and spots. My admiration and resent for my typical anomalies Fluctuates like the waves of the perpetual tempest That whips around in my mind.
I am the voice, the median of my mind And I am the silence that begs to exist. I am the soul that can never rest,
The insomniac that roams,
The one that discovers a sanctuary But leaves with weighed down steps. I am pure potential:
Several shades of blue emotion, tinges of red passion.
I long for wings to send me to a heaven of satisfaction,
But I live with the uncomfortable knowledge that I cannot fly Thus I shall never be free from my demons. Wait, don’t leave, I’ve hardly reached the bedrock. Fine, go, who could I blame?
No one would want to fall into the pitfalls called another. Ring the bell, call it off, stop construction. 

I’d commend you if it didn’t hurt so. 31