Stop Complaining,
Stop Contemplating,
There is no worrying,
Leave behind Discouraging,
Everything will be Alright,
if you would just let go
of the frustrations, and
Go and fly a Kite,
It will be quite a sight,
It will bring to you Delight,
As the Kite soars,
in the Beaitiful sunlight,
Up, up, and  away,
As the Kite reaches it plight,
What a Beautiful day,
as the sun Shines Bright,
So, why don't you go out, and
JUST FLY YOU A KITE!!!


B.R.
Date: 7/12/2025

What type of answer would you expect me to give you?— The kind of answer you would like to hear or not.

Why would I give you my name when you are not even interested to know— It was like telling a story you are not ready to hear or an alibi you do not wanna listen to.

Seung-Woo, the fruit ripens;
Cherry, plum, gourds on vines.

I made the baskets we need.
They will last our lifetime.

Seung-Woo, I flowered;
You picked me among all.

Here in our little house
We will flourish and gather.

Seung-Woo, our fruit ripens.
Come the harvest season

I will give you a son.

to be lasted over, but never met.
to be desired fiercely, but never held.
a fantasy. a fetish.
they see you as a threat.

they dream the dream of your idea,
all you represent.
they reach to touch you freely,
but flinch when you touch back.

because they feel it:
your wholeness is too heavy
to carry on their back.
your layers too tangled
to play with just one thread.
your words anchor too deeply
to catch in fishing nets.

you scare.
you amaze.
you trigger.
so they retreat instead.

they give up before even trying
to walk a mile with you.
because they see
the space you take
just being you.

I tried hard to forget,
never to look back,
not to stay still, but move on –
Yet, all roads lead me
back to your heart.

You went away from my life,
now, you are out of my sight,
but you continue to reside in my heart.

My world is not yours anymore,
your heart doesn't feel my love anymore,
you have shut me out of your life,
erased all my memories of the past.

Yet...all my efforts failed me,
for all the roads lead me
back to your heart.

You didn’t slam the door.
You didn’t scream.
You just…
stopped arriving.

No final word,
no cracked goodbye.
Just space
where you used to be.

Grief didn’t knock—
it slipped in
through the silence
and made itself at home.

I still set the table for two,
in my mind.
Still expect your voice
in rooms
you never returned to.

How do you mourn
someone
who never said they were leaving?
I keep replaying the last moment
we shared
like it was meant to mean something.
But maybe it was just…
a Tuesday.

You left like smoke—
no shape,
no sound,
just scent on my clothes
and a burn I can't place.