To The Mourners

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Written 11/11/2016

You will sleep tonight.
The trees and the birds and the seas will let you rest tonight.
You, with your hands wrapped around theirs, around a bottleneck, will sleep tonight.
You will rest soundly, without worries, without fear, without shaking.

And you will wake. With your hands burning. And you will fight. With the strength you still have left in you. It is not over yet. You will fight tomorrow. You will live tomorrow. You will thrive again, and again, and again, and you will live out of spite tomorrow.

But tonight, you will sleep.
You will rest tonight.
You will sleep tonight.
You will sleep tonight.

The End of The World

​Sometimes, I take a bus to nowhere in particular, watching it turn, maneuvering around tight bends, gentle nudging of caution sweeping the ashen roads. The city never changes, the buildings keep on building, not even the seasons, not even the people, not even a single voice cries out into the void.

“Donald Trump won.” He said. And the people, the trees, the buildings still building, raise their heads to the sky and laughed. And wept. And mourned. And laughed.

In times like these, everyone must stick together. Do not allow Trump to destroy the fight you have been fighting yout whole lives. Live out of spite. Thrive. And never give up hope.

Note to Self

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Inspired by “Notebook Fragments” by Ocean Vuong

Older boys will kill you, mother said. I believed her.

Today I met an older boy. I’m terrified of the man I love, even though he’s the only one who believes me.

Close the door, daddy said. Turn off the lights, daddy said. You’re wasting electricity, daddy said. You’re wasting money, wasting water, wasting space, daddy said.

Listen to your dad, mommy said. You know you’re his jewel, his princess, right? Mommy said.

Note to self: The people who are killing you are also caring for you.

Continue reading “Note to Self”