A M B I V A L E N C E

• K I M N A M J O O N •

F L A S H L I G H T
플래시

I travel through this thick abyss, these
shadows that encompass my mind like
murky swamps and lifeless marshland
where my feet become lodged, submerged
in the mud of my longing. But I still smile,
I smile even though it is only a guise, a
simple trick of a f l a s h l i g h t
illuminating my frown from below.

This frown has been present
from the start, has been here
always to see my downfalls and
shortcomings and regret. So I ask,
how many others travel this realm
in the same way, masking their own
despair with a battery powered
d i s t r a c t i o n ?

It seems to me that you
have it all figured out, that you
know every inch of your soul, have
familiarized yourself with everything you
are, but why can I not do the same?

I feel like a stranger to myself, s h a c k l e d
within my own head, operating here only
because I am stuck—not because this is
where I reside.

Who am I?
Who is that person staring back
at me in the mirror? Whose eyes
do I use to see, because surely
they are not my own, because
there is no way that I would face
the day with such a brave smile
while I know the m o n s t e r s
that fight within the cage of my heart.

They scream, they weep, they cry of
a sadness and disparity most horrid and
their plight makes its way into my throat,
suffocating me until it is all I can do but to
repeat what they wail.

"I am not good enough.

I am nothing.

I am no one."

It is a mantra that I know well, that
I have grown accustomed to, because
w h y would the voices speak if it was not
to utter the truth? Why would their tears
s t i n g my flesh raw if they were not
made to do so from the very beginning?

These monsters.

Maybe I am one of them.

Maybe I am them.

Freedom, what an unattainable notion.
How I want to break out of this skin
holding me together so I can finally
reach my full potential. But this hate
that I hold for myself is an lead anchor,
weighing me down in the blackest oceans
of my doubt. And this flashlight, this source
of portable insight still displays this s i c k l y
smile on my features that I so desperately
want to believe. . .

It h u r t s.

I wish I could love myself.

—Anonymous request. Poetic Narrative. Can you write an angsty one-shot for Namjoon?

Sorry I didn't really include the reader in this one too much. Hope that's okay. xx