hello in korean

i’m mastering the art of saying hello
in Korean;
the days walk past,
nodding over their shoulders
at me in greeting,
casually ignoring the reality of
what they hold.
today i learned how to introduce myself
in Korean.
i repeated the syllables
one after the other,
until they fell
together in a mash
of sounds
that my mouth isn’t
used to forming.
i’ve been talking to my dog
in Korean.
when he barks,
i say anio, hajima!
when i wake up,
i say,
annyeounghaseyo!
i go through my day
remembering the Korean words
and writing about my opinions on
taxonomy and atomic warfare.
is this what my teenager life will become?
i don’t know how long i'll study Korean.
i hope i'll continue until i’m fluent,
but i also know that at some point
the episode will end
and the final credits will scroll,
and i’ll be distracted by some other shiny thing.
i don’t know how long i will wear this sweatshirt, even.
i hope i’ll wear it until it falls apart at the seams,
but i also know that at some point
i’ll feel like it doesn’t fit me anymore.
i’ll start complaining about the arms being too tight,
they hold me too roughly,
the collar cinches my throat,
i feel like i haven’t showered in days when
i wear it.
i don’t want to lose the things
that seem so precious to me now-
talking to a friend for ten minutes
is becoming a currency.
forget about yen, let’s talk about social
interaction and having someone else to
argue with who isn’t the left side of your brain.
the tiny people who live inside my mind
bicker and scoff and eat pb&js.
(i’m suddenly not sure why they like grape jelly.)
tomorrow i will learn more Korean.
i will learn how to ask questions
and i will learn how to ask why.
why will my ambition to succeed
and love for old things fade;
why will i become someone
entirely unlike who i am now.
but that’s in the future.
today,
i know who i am
in Korean.