Quaranzine Poetry

2:13AM journal entry

failed to fall asleep 

even though my body is 

exhausted to the core

my mind was thinking 

too much so I got up and 

drew in my sketchbook 

I am feeling nostalgic and

sentimental for the 

past, even though I would

never choose to relive 

the moments in real life

I much prefer re-living 

them through my journals

I am enjoying this

self-inflicted sadness

the kind that makes you 

appreciate life just

a bit more 

when your college friend

texts you a long

affectionate paragraph that

makes your throat choke up

with gratitude

and you think, oh no

when was the last time

I cried

and suddenly you are

hyper-aware of your 

emotions and the 

tumultuous state that

they are in 

back to being tired now

post-catharsis in this 

modern day love letter

DAWN

I’m going to try something new

even though new is out of my 

comfort zone (but what else isn’t) 

what are the barriers that stop 

you from pursuing the new?

are you living in fear of 

goodbyes that are too early and 

greetings that you don’t 

feel prepared for? 

that emotion that envelops

your core, do you know

what that means?

recognition of the unknown and

of the unfamiliar — that is 

what I’m chasing after but 

I can’t, no I don’t think I can, 

if the boundary between the 

core and the surface 

thickens

like a cell

I need to breathe

in the new day and feel

the gratitude that is meant to 

keep me moving in these uncertain

waves

like a fierce ocean clashing

against dawn.

EARTHLY PLEASURES 

Besides celestial bodies and 

interstellar happenings, let us 

thank our home on earth for 

enduring so much for us without

asking for much in return

I wish this could mean that 

the earth could last forever

but no, the earth needs love

too, just as humans seek

our own desires and lustful 

yearnings — as silly as it 

may seem

If we lived in a world without

physical contact, is this what 

it’d be like? Afraid of

breathing the same air? 

If we could only have each

other without being able to

touch, would we feel the same way? 

I wonder. If all we really 

yearn for are the sparks 

we feel in a moment of

excitement when we are 

calling for each other’s

skin, if the core of our 

satisfaction derives from

your body wrapping around

mine. But that is

forbidden now

so tell me

do you still want me

would you still want me 

in this war? 

GROWTH / DECAY 

An exponential change in feeling

does not eliminate the mundane 

nor should it! Daily life full of 

spontaneous conversations, endless

tasks to accomplish but never enough 

time to do so. Is this how each day

used to go? The mundane holds

power in itself and

credibility over the extraordinary

as a resting state, a baseline

to rely on, and isn’t that

something we could all use more of

Up and down

fluctuations intertwine with a 

steady rate of constancy 

companionship in a modern

lonely story 

do you hear the rustle of 

change? Disrupting the flow

of what the people are used to. 

I crave change but only 

the kind of change that will 

shift my light

forward, against all odds. 

IS ANYONE LISTENING? 

you are all wonderful

everything we could’ve asked for

I feel heard, I feel seen

in moments when I can take the

mic and speak to my 

audience 

we can control how we 

respond to events and yet I 

feel dominated by the other

voices; those of fear and

anxiety and rejection

pouring over my shell

I crave a listener

to receive my

woes with open

arms and 

turn them into 

silver linings

let me collect

these pockets 

of stillness to

soothe my soul


Hayoung:

“Upon returning home after leaving campus with the knowledge that I would not be coming back as a student again, I searched desperately for ways to cope with my despair. I turned to my journal, as I often do in these types of situations, and put pen to paper to create this anthology of quarantine poetry. I speak on loneliness, intimacy, and dealing with change.  


Harvard ‘20 | instagram: @hay0ung