Played Eminem at full volume because I didn’t have to listen to you complain about “**** rap”

2. Cried while listening to Cinderella Man.

3. Listened to music by Drag Queens because I love myself.

4. Danced and cried alone in my room

5. Took advantage of the fact that I still had your Netflix password.

6. Made an OkCupid because Tinder is garbage. I had way too much fun sarcastically making my profile. I included the fact that I don’t believe in wearing matching socks and quoted drag queens to excess because I don’t get cute I get drop dead gorgeous.

7. Looked for girls on OkCupid.

8. Realized my sexuality.

9. Went on a date a week after. It was terrible, he talked about himself the entire time and he didn’t even have an interesting personality.

10. Decided to date myself. I found out I’m a way better date than anyone I had ever dated.

11. Joined a dance group, a Zumba group, a kickboxing group, a yoga group,  a barre fitness group, and the summer rifle club. And I discovered I loved it all.

12. Went to bars on a Tuesday night because they had comedy events and burlesque shows. This was the best date I took myself on.

13. I moved on. I didn’t move on to someone else. I moved on to myself. Because I am the best thing for myself.

I’m Biracial.
Which did you notice first?
The me that looks like you or the me that looks like other?

There is no denying what I am—
from my last name to the shape of eyes,
you’ll know I’m not white.
But you’ll also immediately notice
I’m not quite not white.

I’m not quite not white enough.
White-passing.
“extremely” white passing until:
someone sees my last name
takes longer than five seconds to look at me
notices something “other” about me.

Other...
not one box to check on your
“optional” choose one diversity survey
Can’t check White. Can’t check Asian.
other...“Decline to Answer”

I’m Biracial. White-passing—
but not enough to stop ignorance
ignorance in the form of
questions and comments
meant to be “harmless” or “curious”
but ones that strip me of defining my own identity

“So are you a math Asian or a **** Asian?”
“You don’t look Asian enough for your last name.”
“Why are you trying to whitewash yourself for them?”
“Diversity quota”
And in comparison, those aren’t the worst things to hear.
By age ten I knew which words were meant to hurt
and which were meant out of ignorance.
Which racial slur applied to me.

I’m Biracial.
The same system that builds up half of me tears down the other half.
But— The model minority myth means something to you.
So you’ll build my other half up at the expense of someone else.

You’ll make me feel uncomfortable in my own identity
to fit what you need in the circumstances
Statistics to fit your workplace diversity quota
But still white passing so you can use micro aggressions as a joke
because I’m “white enough” that they should be funny.

I’m Biracial. Not other.
Not part you and part not you.
Not “missing” something.
I am wholly biracial.

My first love
My lifelong love
My world
To create
A world of my own
She knows everything
My secrets
My desires
My fears
My dreams
My nightmares
My hopes

I am in love with her

She is my past
My present
And my future
She is a reflection of all my work

She is my reason

She is my collections

She is…
Writing

I don’t believe in god but I believe in Angels.

I believe in my guardian angel
and those of my friends
I don’t fear danger
because
I believe in something greater than myself

I believe I am never alone
even in my darkest moments
my Angel is here

I have never seen their face
I have never heard their voice

but I have felt their touch
felt their presence
known I am not alone when my demons try to hurt me
when I try to hurt myself

My Angel
grabs the knife from my hand
yanks me back from the edge
silences the demons

My Angel saves my life


I believe in a beautiful place but I don’t call it heaven

A boy says to me: I’d like you more if you were quieter.
What he means is he’d like me more if I was smaller.
If I put him before myself.
If I gave him some magnanimous gesture.
If I loved him before myself.

But I don’t like you
Does that make me sound like a *****?
Because when I say I don’t like you I mean I don’t like the way you
Try to rip my feelings out and replace them to try and turn me into
A girl too afraid to leave you.

You try and silence my voice
Then get mad at me for raising my voice.
But I interrupted you just like you interrupted me.
But don’t worry. Its because your feelings are wrong
And I know you better than you know yourself.
Just ask me about your feelings.

I say I’m tired of your **** and you call me a *****.
Heartless. Cold.
But ***** I am the warmest thing in my life.
I fight for myself so much you’d think I love myself.
And believe me I do. I ******* love myself.
You try and replace that love with hate, with uncomfortability, with fear of myself.
But you’re the one afraid of me.
You’ve never met someone so unshakable.
So in love with myself. In love with my flaws.
Flaws you try and carve into my skin so they’re louder
Flaws you try and drown me in.

You grab me by the hair and pull me to my knees. Trying to put me in my place
You forgot: I won’t start it, but I’ll end it. I’ll end you.
How dare you think you can get anything from me that I don’t let you have
And you will have nothing of me
You do not deserve me.
Even on my worst day I will still be better than what you try and make me into.

When I say I don’t like you it means
I don’t ******* like you.
You will never have the power to make me feel small.
Unimportant. Invisible.
You think you can break me but you don’t know I already know how to put myself back together.

You saw the light
You saw the flowers
You saw the love
You’ll suffer no more
You’re forever beautiful
You see us all from heaven
You see the world from above
You’ll live forever up above
You’ll kiss the moon and stars at night
You’ll walk with the sun across the sky

We’ll look up and see you all around us

You'll want mom to celebrate, 
But she'll be too tired.

You'll learn new things
Things no nine year old should know. 

Depression
Why mom isn’t really mom anymore
Prozac
The medication that is supposed to make mom herself again
Bipolar disorder
Why mom is okay in the morning and gone by lunch
Zoloft
The medication that is supposed to make mom herself again


Some chemical cocktail
It makes mom no longer mom


You'll worry everyday

That there's some ticking time bomb in your head

A countdown to the crazy

3.....

2.....

1......

perfect is not defined by a single person
perfect is not a set mold made by someone
perfect is not the same image to everyone.

perfect is what and who you want to become.

perfection cannot compare you to another.
it compares you to yourself.

Perfect is being a better you than you were yesterday.

Perfect is not something unattainable
Perfect is not something pure and absolute
Perfect is not being the best at everything or even something

Perfect is choosing acceptance
Perfect is embracing who you are
Perfect is beauty within flaws
perfect is the cracks in a mirror
perfect is the smiling through pain

perfect is not a number on a test
perfect is not a rank among classmates
perfect is not the schools you get accepted to

perfect is choosing to do better than your best
perfect is pushing you beyond the edge into an abyss
perfect is the scars from the monsters you conquer

perfect is pride in all that you are and all you achieve
perfect is finding love in the darkest of places

perfect is not what someone else tells you
perfect is what you tell yourself it is

[April is ****** Assault Awareness Month.]

“****** Assault Awareness Month” is *******.

For 30 days you’ll wear a teal ribbon and hold “We Believe Survivors” signs.

But
Should I thank you for 30 days of ally-ship?
No.
Did you believe me on March 31st?
No.
Will you believe me on May 1st?
No.

30 days.
You’ll scream
ALLY ALLY ALLY
Believe survivors
ALLY ALLY ALLY
Support Survivors
ALLY ALLY ALLY
Hold rapists accountable.
ALLY
Bull. ****.

Go ahead and pretend ****** assault only happens in April.
Throw out your teal ribbons on May 1st
because it’s not ****** Assault Awareness Month anymore.
You don’t have to care anymore.

But I do.
What my rapists did is something I live with
335 more days
than you’ll care about an issue.

You don’t realize the ribbons you pin your bags and shirts are
smaller
than the
bruises he left on my thighs
But
you don’t care what one survivors thinks of you
so long as the world knows that
for 30 days, you wore a teal ribbon

Your message of ally-ship
30 days a year
doesn’t erase
your hypocrisy the other
335 days.

Victim. Six letters to take away my self worth.

He took without asking.
It RIPPED me APART.
I woke up screaming from nightmares.
I saw HIM at school.
It destroyed who I was.
I was ***** when I was 15
I’M STRONGER NOW

Survivor. Eight letters to reclaim myself?.

According to A: There’s no way I can be straight because I’ve dated a girl.
According to B: I’m way too straight to ever be in to girls.
According to C: That one girl I dated was just a phase.
According to D: It was just “experimentation” or “curiosity” totally natural.
According to E: I’m the token straight.
According to F: I’m to pretty to be into girls.
According to G: I don’t even look like I could be gay.
According to H: I’m just saying I’m not straight for attention.
According to I: My feelings don’t mean anything.
According to J: OBVIOUSLY I’m bisexual, why don’t I understand?
According to K: I’m just easy.
According to L: I’m only pretending to be into girls for male attention.
According to M(e): ….

What about according to me?
clearly everyone else’s opinions are the only ones that matter when it comes to my ****** preferences