You stand in the corner of the room,
light radiating off of your silver body.

Your head is held up high
so you can face the light bulb that
hangs by your side.

She smirks at me,
knowing you will never shine at me
the way you shine for her.

But let me tell you something.
You brighten up my world
more than that hideous light bulb
brightens up yours.
you have a special glow,
and every time you open up,
it makes me shine within as well.
you're filled with sweetness,
sugar-coating my fabric.
you’re always there for comfort,
providing words of reassurance.

but one day,
your heart will shatter
as you watch that light bulb die out.
and as the light fades away,
you'll fall apart,
shards of ice spilling out of you.
and when that happens,
give your heart to me.
i'll hold it close to mine,
hugging the parts back together as
zippers enclose our hearts-
the intricate design of complicated love.

but until then,
with all my problems held inside,
with my heart torn and worn from being unheld,
i’ll be waiting
for the day to call you mine.

Their greasy hair sticking to their faces,
Hanging their heads down in sadness.
I dream to help those homeless people,
And to see their faces lit up in gladness.

I dream to change the lives of many people,
By explaining to them we are all human,
And we should help the ones in need.
When they ask, "Who can help?" I will reply, "You can."

My dream is to become a doctor,
Feeling trusted, watched, depended on.
For if I make one mistake,
I will lose a life of a patient and will be glared at a ton.

I dream to fly one day,
To touch the clouds one by one,
To feel the cool breeze,
Noisy brothers, noisy sisters, nope there are none.

I wish to fly far enough,
To go to a quick visit to heaven.
To feel my grandma's cozy embrace,
And to tell her I have turned eleven.

Dreams don't have to be possible.
They are still very important.
I will keep on dreaming no matter what,
Because I want to dream until the moment.


The moment my dreams come true.

You're my frienemy,
Not an enemy,
Nor a friend.

There for me when I need you,
Glaring and competing when I don't.

Kicking each other sometimes,
and laughing along with me all the other times.

Pushing and shoving,
smiling and loving.

You're doing all this because...

You're my frienemy,
Not an enemy,
Nor a friend.

Beautiful maiden
Singing a beautiful song
Warms my painful heart

Parents live in the shadow of the pali,
watching the young ones play.
They are reminded of the ones they left behind
in the world on the other side of the mountains.
And as they shut their eyes each night they know
their existence in the child's life is fading.
Can you hear them weeping?
All they do is live in the past.

The keiki live in the shadow of the pali,
tumbling around like rushing of water.
Running, twirling, and jumping;
They learn to dance in the shadows.
And as their eyes shut each night,
their quilt embraces their cold, shaking body.
They have long forgotten the touch;
their mother's lips on their foreheads,
and the warmth of their father's arms.
Can you hear them sleeping?
All they do is live in the present.

The old live in the shadow of the pali,
sitting on the chairs we have built
when we arrived so very long ago.
We have watched the young boys grow into men,
and the babies grow into young girls.
Storytelling and singing songs,
wishing to make a mark before we leave.
The best we do to create a better ohana.
Can you hear us teaching?
All we do is live in the future.

We are the people of Kalaupapa living in the shadows of the pali.
We are the forgotten, the left behind.
We watch as souls leave a lifeless body each day,
but our cheeks are no longer stained with tears.
No longer do we waste these tears that create an ocean.
A great love has created within our community.
Intertwined fingers connect the past, present, and future,
We are of a great diversity.
We have learned to enjoy the time we have left
and learned to love people no matter who they are.
Tonight we gather around the fire, dancing.
We live in the shadows, but we are the ones shining.
Can you hear our singing?

Best Friends Forever,
Let us play altogether.
We'll have so much fun,
Under the big summer sun.

The Sun gives us light,
And washes away all our frights.
We play and play,
The whole summer day.

Screaming and splashing,
Laughing and crashing,
We'll have so much fun until summer ends...

when i was younger,
i was afraid to step in quicksand.
jumping from cushion to cushion,
don't fall off the cliff!

when i was younger,
i was afraid to sleep without light.
covers folded under my feet
don't let the munsters get at me!

when i was younger,
i was afraid the day was too short.
indignantly holding onto my book
but mom, this is the good part!

but now?

i am clinging onto the cliff,
aching to let go.

i am surrounded by my monsters,
they're my only friends.

i am sure good parts don't exist,
that genre's called fantasy.

they said the biggest fear is death,
**so why am i so unafraid?

I cry,
my heart tightening together,
feeling all lonely and empty.
Screaming your name,
calling for you,
but you won't come back for me.
Knowing that you never will,
I cry in agony,
Tears gushing down my wet cheeks,
Making my face glisten.
My lungs gasping for air,
My chest rising and falling rapidly.

I miss you.

visible ghost of air ******* back into mouth
stepping back,
footprints dissolving in snow.
tiny crystals underneath repairing.
cliques drift apart,
people drift apart
like continents which once fit together
puzzle pieces.
letting go of the door,
retreating.

time is supposed to heal,

i guess enough hasn't passed yet.



i still remember the warmth of your hand

but now they've gone cold

i remember the color of the sky

reflecting off of your young eyes

but now they've gone old



weather changes mood

and where there was once color in the sky

has now turned to grey because

you reflect the sky

but the sky reflects you back

your neon shirts splashing orange and yellow

are nowhere to be seen

and the sun has the dullness

of three million bulbs in series.



bulbs...

     series...



remember electronics?

we learned about creating connections together.

we learned how to make sparks

and how to create songs

each note was essential

for creating the best melody.

we learned what it meant to be a closed circuit,

a close family.



but now the bulbs have shattered.

the cracked glass pierces my skin, and the blood,

the blood is dripping,

ringlets staining my shirt

the way your soul stained mine.



and i find it funny

how you can change so easily

how i feel,

how i act,

because you are my weather

leading me through the days.

and i used to feel so selfish

because whenever it would rain,

i kind of liked it

because i was no longer crying alone.



but now it's constant.

again it's raining,

the sky is fading,

the clouds are huddling,

my mind is muddling,

there's blurs of puddles.

holding memories i want to let go.



let go,

let me go,

let this end,

let        me

f   o   r   g   e   t .



the eyes are the windows to the soul,

and when i look in to your windows i see



n o t h i n g.



because your eyes are not you

and your clothes are not you

and your smile is not you

and you, just you, are not who you are



and i miss you.



time is supposed to heal

but i guess it wasn't enough for you.

was what I had said.
I was a child who would give their life
to spend time with you, but
you were a man with no time for me.

you were the largest star,
and I was the smallest
in the constellation of our family.
you held us together,
through comets that tried to break us apart.
I was merely a speck of light
who brightened up your world,
but I wanted to be so much more.

you were a trail,
and I was the footsteps.
you directed me where to go,
but along the way,
you disappeared into the forest of bustling trees,
leaving me
scared,
lost,
alone.

you were the king of ants,
and I was a speck of dirt.
you worked so hard
to reach to the top.
you would carry burdens of problems
that were ten times your size,
and never give up
until you finished the task.

you were a doctor,
I was a child.
you poked needles into their skin,
them begging you to save them.
But I poked you with my small finger,
begging you to see the scribbles on my paper
that resembled our complicated, yet unique family.

you are a planet,
and I am an electron.
and we both spin around
in endless orbits.
we may only meet
every once in a while,
but that’s okay.
our hearts still beat
at the same time.
The blood running along our veins
are still the same type.
We are still connected.

You are a father,
and I am a daughter.
you were doing everything
to keep the food on the table,
to keep the family happy,
to see me smile.
Even if you may not show it,
even if you may not say it,
i feel it.

and if there is anything you should remember
from my mess of actions,
it's that i've always meant to say,
“I love you.”

When I am at my best self I am a tree,
spreading my roots as far as they can reach,
gripping onto soil to keep my body firm and steady,
gulping down mouthfuls of the swirling, calm wisps
escaping from the mouths of passersby.
The very knowledge keeping me alive,
giving me strength.

No one notices the words and stories of others
sink deep into the core of my trunk,
strengthening my ability
see the scenery through the eyes of another,
to feel the beat through the heart of another
to live a life through the body of another.

You will break down the hard shell of my trunk,
only to find hundreds of walls circling my heart.
Pounding your fists against them will not break them down,
and using an axe will only create gashes in my skin,
but if you shower me with nutrients to keep me alive,
maybe these walls will start to soften
and the flowers will begin to bloom.

Occasionally comes a downpour,
when the sky begins to weep.
the soil slips through the grasp of my roots
swirling, swerving, mixing in with the puddle of tears.
The clear water turns to brown,
and I start to lose my balance.
The family of birds fly far away
the leaves on my branches wilting to grey
and all i am left with is a couple of friends
who i have to protect with all of my might.
And although these times may bring sticks and stones,
never do i forget to keep my trunk above the water.
The sun will always return,
warming up the coldness engulfing me.
The sky will return,
bringing color to the pitch black darkness.

You will find me often spreading far and wide across the park,
giving away various colored flowers to all sorts of people,
and they each decide what they want to do .
The seven year-old, a slightly messy wreath for her mother,
but the tangles show the complexity of love.
The seventeen year-old, a decoration on a canvas
the canvas is a portrait for his boyfriend.
The seventy year-old, just another to the collection
of the compressed flowers on a notebook for her granddaughter.
I make sure to plant love wherever I go.

When I am my best as a student, I am a tree,
spreading my roots as far as they can reach.
From the moon and back,
from the stars and ever more afar,,
I will continue to be
the best tree I can be.