I sit still and watch
With eyes sharp enough to cut
As the grey ocean foam
Crashes on the sea wall

Hundreds of black stones
All with difference and irregularity
Stacked layer upon layer upon layer
Now wet, but still greatly unwashed

I sit on the edge
And look down on my feet
I scrape the callouses on stone
The sea foam washes but doesn't clean

I watch as the ocean turns black
My feet kicks the relentless foam
The stone wall remains intact
So I crumble in its place

The sea drags me out
I drink the abysmal drink
I sway to the whims of a lonely moon
I crash on a wall of indifference and regularity

That temporary smile;
           that temporary pain.

I've been so stressed about tomorrow,
            that I forgot to live today.

I strive to be the greatest
and have an audience rise up on their seats
with a deafening applause
and a desire to take that life changing picture.

I strive to be the greatest
to ax the driving darkness
digging into the center of my heart and soul
that my people have pegged
into my back.

I strive to be the greatest
finally able to smile in front of the light
that is but absent in this hole
of which only dreams thrive in.

I strive to be the greatest
that I can lie down
one last time surrounded in white
reliving the moment I smeared the world
in red.

I strive to be the greatest
so I can see you smile that perfect smile
and see I was worth the trouble
that I actually mean something
to someone.

I strive to be the greatest
so I can be part
of the 49% minority
and scream victory from buildings
taller than no other.

I strive to be the greatest
but I'm terrified of
rejection
life
recession
failure
hate
disappointment
loneliness
myself

so help me, God

The yellow sun
Seems to have shied
Away from my father.

I take one hard look,
Cut
His figure like cardboard,
Paste

Him in the throes
Of the Great Wall,

The seaports of Guangzhou...
It fits him like a glove.

My grandfather
Still thinks it's 1937.

He came here
On a boat
That collapsed
Kissing
Our blueing shoreline.

And I'm not sure if he has
Any memory
Of home but
If so, he seems determined
To live as a straggler.

Forever caught in between
His beloved red-ink
Chinese newspapers

And the fact
That he swears
Quite fluently in Tagalog.

My dad
Always forbade me from cursing.
Rarely did himself.

When he did though,
He'd do it fluently
In Chinese,

His beloved
Local newspaper,
Black and white,
Folded
On his lap.

...sometimes I wonder
If the boat
Truly made it
At all.

Goodbye to decisions made
Out of confusion
Out of extreme emotion

Goodbye to the one whom you could have loved
The boy you shoved
Further and further away
Out of Fear
Don't dare shed a tear

Goodbye 16
Goodbye my dear.