Dark day

Some days

are one of those days.

Dark grey.

You are alone.

Every face on the street

a potential threat

an enemy.

Reality swoops in a spiral

down

down.

Hope is but a distant dream.

These days

I beg you

to breathe

whether it’s rain

damp earth, green grass

dry leaves and crisp air

or rich flowers and golden hair

breathe all in.

I beg you

to ignore the news

the headlines blaring

glaring – close your eyes

turn your music up high

ask for a hug

or give one

give ten

give smiles

buy flowers

drink water

pause.

Continue to love

love blindly

love wildly

love ’til you radiate love

love ’til you are love

and suddenly

it’s not really

one of those days

anymore.

 

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they say being in love is climbing a tree

they say being in love is climbing a tree:

you crawl and climb

feel the rush in your veins

drink the air

the earth’s breath in your hair

you forget to inhale

exhale

your eyes water at the sun’s gold

your fingertips grip raw

& callused from holding tight

but you keep on

ascending

forgetting

to wonder

how you’ll get down.

A Thai Abroad

It’s a tough time being a Thai abroad.

Your grief is indescribable to your friends.

Your loneliness like an empty street on a dark night where all the shops are bright and even the concrete shines with dew.

 

But how do you explain a love so old you don’t recall a day alive without it?

There wasn’t one single moment that you were convinced, won over.

It’s just there.

It’s oxygen in your veins.

It’s the rain you were born with.

It’s the song of your childhood.

It’s the orange-gold sun washing over your street, your home.

It’s in every grain of rice, every book you read, every movie you saw – you would stand, teary-eyed, as your chest squeezed with that love.

It’s that sweetness on your tongue when you call his name: Nai Luang – like sugarcane.

 

Not many others have been sons and daughters of this love.

It’s a tough time being a Thai abroad.

But I’m grateful that I can always follow this pain home.

To be happy

O the trial of being happy

It sucks my bones dry

My spine creaks at its weight

My fingers ache from gripping

Holding on

This guise I wear

O the trouble of being happy

There’s no room to breathe

This fight with gravity

Below me

The whirl of sadness is comforting

A hurricane of blue

Open arms inviting me in

Rest now, child

Your fight is over

Losing has its pleasure

Close your eyes, child

Let your tears fall

Let your skin open

Let yourself fall

Dark blue night

In these dark blue hours of night

We lie in a gentle ball of quiet

I listen to you breathe

Your skin glows moon-white

Still as a cold lake

Your arm – a tree root – finds its home on my skin

In my skin

My heart is tied to the end of a shoestring

You are the shoe

It’s these perfect hours

The night’s melodies all but faint

We are two

And none else

That I wish would stretch and curl

A perfect 8

Unending

Curse

If I could claw out of my flesh

Shed my skin

Leave my ribcage behind

This prison assigned

Without a question asked

If I could be free

Of these eyes, this nose,

These cheeks, this mouth

This hurricane mind

This lava chest

There’s nothing I hate more

Than this nodding, plodding non-choice

I did not ask to be born

And if you will not let me fly

Then

Let me die

#GrowingUpAsian

Maybe it’s in the slant of my eyes

My skin the colour of rain-soaked soil

That hides a bruise so well

Maybe it’s in my cheekbones

Two mountains tall round balls

That make good targets so

Maybe it’s in my thick black hair

That seems to absorb your stares

Your curious glares, your poison

Maybe it’s in my size

That makes you feel more wise

To teach me my history

Maybe it’s in my lips

Taught to stay small, sealed

As the cut heals

Designed for biting stopping

Words from pouring out

Pouring out

When you say

I’ve got yellow fever How much did she cost You speak good English You’re only here because you earn more here than Thailand Do you send money back home Tight Asian school girls Go back to China Town I love Asian girls Oh I know Thailand it’s lady boys and prostitutes Do you ride elephants to school You’re so short and cute Fucking immigrants no but you’re the good kind Can you hook me up with some of your Asian friends You should be grateful my country lets you stay here Do you eat dogs You’re Thai do you speak Taiwanese Love you long time

Maybe

But maybe it’s in my blood my bones

That this earth is my home my throne

And after your poison your cut your bruise your lies

My eyes are wide and my chin kept high

I will not roll over and die

I will not roll over and die