poem: untitled

In forsaking the ability to change,they diminish their capacity for hope.—Kathleen Norris, “Dakota” What must it feel liketo not be somebody’s first love? I’m sick of being angry.My therapist said thisis part of grief. I always know I’m home whenI don’t feel Asian enoughfor anyone on social media. I’m afraid to write.“You must trust theContinue reading “poem: untitled”

Remember

Forgetfulness is simultaneously a desirable and undesirable thing that flits between conscious striving and my conscience. It’s a defense and an attack. A quick look backwards and our efforts crumble to pieces. The fortress falls. The memory room collapses. And so much clawing can’t get us out. I have wanted to forget the sound ofContinue reading “Remember”

Poem: For Now

We watched the lightning show from my bedroom window, carmine and hibiscus dancing behind charcoal clouds,angelic hallelujah light. I scolded youfor being on your phone, but you were curiousabout gas excitation and electrons so,in retrospect, that was probably okay.Apparently lightning is five times hotterthan the sun, and Zeus is married to Hera,the goddess of childbirthContinue reading “Poem: For Now”

things i miss

– crying in the office – laughing in the office – dancing in the office – hugs from my mother – hugs from my friends – hugs from people I didn’t get many hugs from – coming home to the apartment – reading in the apartment – singing in the apartment – the train –Continue reading “things i miss”

Sabbath

some spaces to cry: the edge of a sea green bathtub because they shouldn’t be texting you Monday chapel if the worship team makes you sing songs about ashes a full-length mirror crudely stuck to the wall you’ll think you look like a monster on Amazon while looking for a cheap, single-serve coffee maker theContinue reading “Sabbath”

Day 7 – Senses

From the journal: “I haven’t had a sense of smell in two weeks [for various reasons]. Today I realized it’s starting to come back, but every time I inhale a deep breath outdoors, I highly dislike the smell that assails my senses. It smells like polluted air. It’s not sweet. Like freshly cut grass mixedContinue reading “Day 7 – Senses”

Day 3 – Belonging

The tree branches whipping against the windows at 7 in the morning leave me less than inclined to open my eyes. Maybe if I hold onto my dreams the monster won’t get me. I’d been having nice dreams. They’d been dreams where I’d felt loved and seen. Splashes of ice cold water cast themselves againstContinue reading “Day 3 – Belonging”