The Death of North Korea
Anonymous
-
I wrote this poem both about and for my great-grandmother, who fled Kaesong, North Korea during the war. I’m the only great-grandchild (from my grandmother’s side) that she has met, yet I cannot remember her. This piece was meant to grapple with what my Korean identity means to me, as something that feels so distant to me and simultaneously defines me, living in the U.S. Similarly, I cannot remember this woman who is so central to my life—who I owe everything to. This piece is, above all, an apology, mixed with ruminations on bodies, gender, and language, ending with the words that I wanted to say all along: I love you, and I’m sorry I don’t know how to say it.
-
Creativity is the most human form of expression; it is difficult more often than not, but it's important. To me, it is one of the most unique markers of humanity, and what drives me not just to write, but to make connections in all areas of my life.
