In Đà Nẵng my friends cradled me like a child.
We screamed Taylor bridges,
tequila-toasted in bars until the lights blurred.
A single candle in the bathroom
danced warm sighs through open windows,
and all felt calm.

I grew new muscles balancing on a motorcycle,
sometimes gripping Harry’s jacket,
sometimes throwing my weight into the wind.
The city flared neon and gasoline in stuttered traffic,
but along the coast
he drove so fast the vibrations in my chest harmonized.
I pictured my bones becoming butterflies if I let go.

Last year I entered the year of the dragon on a futon,
swayed to sleep by a hundred chanting voices from the temple next door
while Bailey burned incense for her ancestors below.
I did not dream of dragons.
I only learned to breathe fire.

The year of the snake slid in with new bones and old habits.
It hissed that suffering could be scripture
until letters slithered free from the page
and coiled like cold jewelry around my wrist.

That was the shedding.
Salt water peeling old skin away,
songs shouted so loud they drowned the ache,
poems that did not start tragic,
nights when my body finally kept time with the moon.

Then at home the dog’s teeth found my hope.
A terrified mouth rerouted rivers
through my soft parts.
A jewel carved from my nose.
Six punctures blooming across my arms like altars.

In Vietnamese stories the snake waits beneath the water
to claim whoever dares the bank.
I wonder if I was chosen the moment
I opened my mouth in those bars,
when I leaned into the bike’s curve
as if danger could be a love song.

Now I lie awake at hours unnamed,
tracing scars that hiss answers back.
Vietnam hums inside me still,
the candle, the coast, the chorus of friends,
but I cannot tell if they are memories
or if the snake is still awake inside me.

They say snakes shed to grow,
but no one warns you how thin the new skin feels,
how everything burns against it,
how you mistake survival for prophecy.

I touch the scar and wonder
if I am still that girl clinging to the bike,
or if the snake has already swallowed me,
patient, sleepless,
feeding on my own venom.

I walk with the glow of a stella, unmoved by time’s passing hand. The years fly, yet the days crawl— like the last drop clinging to the highest cloud, waiting to fall. I wish my tears could be time itself, so maybe I’d live a little longer. Maybe I’d stream to empty myself, like a bucket of tears thrown to the ground— brief, swift, a life undone.

"One day I'll be there" I play your voice on loop
And think of all the games you played, with psychological hoops
How we had just a highway against our promised love
How you dared to ordain our love, and say it's from above

One day, Aru HI, no language makes its any better
How I waited in the rain with a shirt, in the cold with no sweater
Tell me what was expected of me, to make due with what you threw at me
What should we have become, for your person above to have it be

I prayed about it thoroughly, I even cried per syllable
I ruined my vocabulary, waiting for you left me miserable
Every lie you told sting, but none like "one day"
Every guy you find seems to hear you say

This verse is incomplete, like your patience and belief in us
You turned me from a stubborn lover, to a bitter hater that would cuss
At the very idea of seeing you on the street
And having to say you belonged there, cause you had the audacity to cheat

Even if it was a year, even if it was yesterday
It still hurts to hear, and to see you forget everyday
The people who got you to see other continents
The people who wasted precious time being consistent

I wish you well, and that you never have to lie again
To fake getting used like that, to make the truth bend
Using every excuse in the book, because you never deserved me
Did it **** you to be faithful? Did you have to swerve me?

I wonder if the men you hate now, have similar traits to I
Or if you have a "type" now to make up for your lies
Does the next guy deserve your self inflicted trauma?
Do I need a wedding invite, after getting thrown away like a soggy shawarma?

May your children never meet your past, may your husband never learn of I
For if I had to shake hands with them, you know I would despise
Lying on top of lies, crying as I reprise
My role in your miserable play named "One Day"

I welcome the new year under a foggy sky

Warm breaths glowing in the cold air

Bright smiles never lie

I hope I can teach myself some self-care

I hope I can try

I welcome the new year under a foggy sky

in the middle of Oklahoma

It is not unusual for stars
to love, cosmic attraction
pulling one to another.

In the beginning when the
earth exploded into being
the sun and moon were
born to govern it.

As natural opposites they
avoided one another
sparing no thought whilst
following their own
cosmic paths, solivagant.

Occasionally the moon would
watch the earth and saw how the sun
nourished and brought
joy to its people.

And in turn the sun noted
the moons protective
shade and pitch night
wherein many lovers
stole forbidden kisses.

As the stars courted they
saw each other wholly
for the sun while
nourishing can also be
scorching and deadly, and the moon though many took comfort in its
glow others took it as an
advantage for carrying
out cruel misgivings.

Finally they decided to
meet, a day was chosen
and for a moment they
were as one.

This did not last.

The people below
panicked at this sight
fearing for their lives their
fervent prayers reached
the heavens and so once
more they parted and took
their immortal stations, everlonging.

January starts its journey
as a wet and sorry thing,
a limp balloon in a leafless tree
and a soggy bit of string

One spirit
One voice
In him rejoice

One light
One way
His love won’t stray

All you’ve got to do is surrender
Put all your plans aside
Let the masterful creator
Lead and be your guide

One dream
One hope
His strength to cope

One word
One phrase
To sing his praise

All you’ve got to do is surrender
There’s no better time than this
Made in the image of the one true God
Open up, don’t resist

One spirit
One voice
In him rejoice

One light
One way
His love won’t stray

Our ways are not the same as his
He’s not looking for perfection
Rest in the Father’s hands

One spirit
One song
In him we belong

One hope
We pray
For salvation one day