we slept so long in
the dancing green grass, our hair 
started growing up.
--
somewhere, a dragon
-fly alights on a blade and 
breathes fire through red wings.
--
the rain hurls itself 
against the sea until it
is hollow once more.
 

    Recently I have started down that tire-skid-marked path of acquiring what is known by adults as a driver's license and by teenagers as freedom. To prepare for the test, I’ve been driving for just a little longer than is legal and acquired a fastn'furious-esque poise through my mother giving me what has, on several occasions, almost literally been a crash course. And while I do enjoy the autonomy driving gives me, have become quite comfortable behind the wheel, and routinely...

Adolescence had a scent.  A scent of impropriety and impressionability, of the desire to be unique enough to fit in, of contradiction.  I stood alone.  Around me, Doc Marten garbed photographers flirted with Creeper clad bassists.  Left minded skinheads smoked with young mature girls, sharing a stoge under a cracked outdoor porch light.  A couple sat on a swing set.

I held no feeling of love or adoration for romanticization.  I had been in a relationship with a boy whom...

TW: Medical
February 7, 2018:
As I visit the doctor, sure I am sick, I am aware of how much I have grown up. As a child, I cried and hid under the examination table when it came time for shots. Today, I breathe and look away, hardly feeling anything as a large needle takes blood from the prominent vein in my elbow. I receive two shots after my condition is determined and merely wince, despite the fact that they...

January 1, 2018: My fingers press into the strings and grip the bow a bit tighter than acceptable as I practice my violin for the first time in a while. My connection to the instrument is magnetic; I will always return to it, despite whatever has kept me away. Making music through this vessel feels so natural, reminding me of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s flow, the way one achieves self actualization. My friends will come and go --as they have-- but the...

Let me sing like angels for the demon that fell. 

    What is it? First grade? Kindergarten? Surrounded by my small classmates, sitting at our oversized desks. I only remember some of them, my little friends, because at that age we were all friends, and for odd reasons. But at least I remembered them, and my teacher, near our desks that day. I don't remember the date, exactly, but I do remember what we did then. Next to our cluster of small desks where we sat with a paper stretched in...

Every night
I stand in front of the mirror
I turn to my side
And observe my stomach 
Which sticks out too far
It breaks my heart
Because I want a flat stomach
Like the kind you see in magazines
The kind that you don’t have to suck in 
I have the flat kind in the morning
And I think ‘Today is the day’
But by nightfall it’s not flat anymore
So I tell myself
‘I’ll try harder tomorrow’
But...

Why do people try so hard to fit in? What for? Better to be hated for who you are than loved for what you're not. Why must we strive for the approval of others if we do not approve of what we are doing ourselves? I ask you.

Sometimes the most difficult question to answer is the one you know the answer to. It all starts when you’re really young when you know that the possibilities are endless for where you might begin. But out of all those possibilities, which do you want the most? When I was very young I thought I knew what I wanted most -- I wanted a costume and mask and to web-crawl like Spider-Man. Although being adorable, it was, of course, just...

    The human mind is a funny thing. I know this because some days, I laugh, cry, and smile without him ever crossing my mind. Yet on other days, the bitter memory rushes back to me, digging its jagged claws into my skin. When I look at the stars woven into the night sky like diamonds, all I can think about is how he would never see them again. 

    On that fateful day, none of us were prepared for the shocking...

I can hear blasting speakers from carefree cars, rapping from a Vietnamese fruit seller, the warm buzz of light poles towering over, the haunting spray cans colouring public walls, an arpeggio bell to welcome the next train.
 

They first arrived sixteen years ago. Even though I was so young at the time, I can still remember it like it was yesterday.

It was a cold, dismal November afternoon. The small town of Lowgate, California had been in a state of disrepair long before the accursed energy crisis that took the US completely by surprise, but the current situation seemed to make things worse. Unemployment had skyrocketed, nobody had electricity or any other means of powering their homes,...

 reincarnated . ||
-
Me. The most requested courtesan of a Japanese pleasure quarter
Exotic Edo, trained elongated fingers
in all entertainment .
Smoulders in candlelight
a silhouette through a translucent curtain
wire brushes slightly move ,
oboes overblown, snuffed whenever 
the eclipse of a British man stepped .

-

this is your departure from  
the Emperor’s emporium
pricked pulsating points
pumping through my eternal reverie ,
the needle accompaniment
radii laces, fibres fill
golden particles and
a European love affair,...

The walls are white, blinding white, drive you insane white. Which is ironic for one reason in particular among others.
I can hear him behind me, but I don’t move. He can’t do anything right now. Not while I’m here.
I know he’d love to replace me. He’s always thought he was better.
I know him. I know him best apart from myself. I’ve been with him my entire life.
He thinks I’m weak. Infuriating.
I think he’s evil. Like...

I’ll see a light even if I can’t see a light because goddamnit, I’ll have to keep going somehow.

      It was snowing the day we heard the news. The ringing of a phone call that altered the way my family worked had just finished reverberating through the room before my mom spoke. I could hear the quiet muffled voice of my grandmother on the other side, the usual conversation they had each day. It wasn’t important, so I went to my room to work on homework before the house became too loud.

     My room was...

She laughs and she smiles
but they never see her fight
late at night when her demons come to kill her light

She screams and she cries
but they never see her try
desperately searching to find her missing light

Prologue  
The shiny black egg rolls down the hill, crackling over freshly fallen Autumn leaves that are golden in the dwindling sunlight, jumping over roots erupting from the brown soil, three men in a hot pursuit. It bursts through a pile of leaves, momentarily slowing the men as they spit them from their mouths and bat them from their face. The egg rolls into a hollow tree trunk, making an echoing thudding sound. It bursts from the log and...

Small towns, picket fences, perfect flowers, east coast, slow moving. 

Big cities, chain linked, palm trees, west coast, fast paced. 

Little villages, wooden edges, grassy hills, European, your own time.

Empire city, concrete barriers, park gardens, Staten Island, time is money. 

All these places are in my heart, all these places I must explore. 

They don't know what they're saying,
When they ask what's wrong with me.
Yet somehow it's still dismaying
To know that's how they see.

Why don't I let my thoughts show? 
I've only seen kindness in my life,
So I really don't know
Why revealing causes me so much strife. 

I want understanding
From myself and from others.
But I don't give away a thing
And no one can read the thoughts of another.




 

The rose bushes were in full bloom: their crimson petals spilled open against the dark green leaves, and their shadows, mottled with specks of sunlight, fell around the girl, on her arms and on her book.

Leaning against the wooden bench, she leafed through the pages with ease, soaking up each word with delight and blithe. The girl’s eyes flickered from one line to the next, like a restless candle flame, totally absorbed by the pages, till the grassy lawn,...

    It was a very cold morning in January. The water in the pipes was frozen throughout the house, causing us all to skip breakfast.

    When I came in from feeding the chickens (who fortunately had water) I found my three younger sisters gathered in the living room, each playing their own game of solitaire—with their own brand new decks of cards. 

    The only deck I had was practically falling to pieces.

    I asked Mom if I could have a new...

    The letter arrived in the mail the day after Lily Marks killed herself. It wasn't anything that seemed important, not the type of thing you take out of the mailbox and look at for a minute, thinking, this letter is going to change my life. No. It was interesting, because it was in an envelope made of newspaper.
    The thing that made it stand out, however, was not the newspaper envelope or the simple stamp, but...

I follow forgotten footsteps
Listening to whispers left unknown
I trace back lost smiles
Of statues left frozen in time 
Why, you may ask
Do I do look at things long gone
For stories lie under every stone left untouched
It's just that sometimes they don't want to be turned over