the roots of my people
are winding, twisting,
intricate art in themselves.
our skin—
a million shades of
rain-soaked and sun-kissed.
our bodies meld with
our bamboo, stretching
our fingers
endlessly upwards—
our plum blossoms,
resilient through sheets of snow—
our willows,
soft and airy,
swaying in perfect rhythm
with the wind our land breathes.
we are born of nature—
our voices sharp and nimble;
oxygen leaves our lungs
and carves peaks in the sky,
pierces clouds like
the huangshan—
we move
like no other blood,
fast and flying,
fleet-footed,
ever-flowing.
the roots of my people
are painted in
calligraphy pens and ink,
and it runs through
each of us,
as we stand
tall, serene,
in symbolic tradition,
just like our trees.

Words once spoken
Can't be broken
Too late you find the damage done

Either uplifting
Or unforgiving
Words are best spoken in love

Can't take them back
Once they've left your lips
From the tongue speaks the heart

Rue the day
They've had their say
Truthfully in who you are

Best be thinking
Before speaking
Avoiding pain from what's been heard

Horses take bits
Rudders turn ships
Be careful how you steer your words

It was at the 7th bridge
that I decided to jump
perhaps the cold night added incentive
or the fact that I had lost my favorite letter from you that day
the last one you wrote
before you found your own bridge
or perhaps 7 is just my lucky number
I was after all
the 7th child born
though my mum was told not to have more children
so you see
all my time here was cake anyway
I'm not tossing anything away
I'm just making things right

what is it about life that makes it so
difficult?
perhaps it's the inability for some of us
to store our baggage in a proper place

Sometimes
I find myself
rewriting poems
Changing all the words
except for
your name

It won't stop bleeding,
This gaping red and black hole.
Useless bandages.

She's taken your body wash, and used it without permission.
She's used it twice before and
presumed it would be fine to take it again.

You never gave consent.
You even said No.

She's used it twice before so what's a third time,
or a fourth or even a fifth,
she's just hoping you won't snitch and tell someone
she stole something from you...
Your confidence or your peach shampoo?

She lied about the temperature of the bath water,
you were supposed to drown
before you felt the heat,
but you didn't and now you're
tearing your skin to shreds,
Self-destruction on the first date,
how sweet.

She wants you to wash your mouth out,
you said something you shouldn't and now she's mad,
feeling sorry for you is in the past,
the new thing is drowning you in the bath.

Your heads now under water,
feet kicking the floor.
She's doused you with her perfume,
just to see you choke against the wooden frame of the door.