a never-ending poem, last edited 3/8/2025. click next to see various past iterations.
flight like a reset
chasing after the sun
is (s)he sick yet
of waiting for the train's headlights brighter than rays of sun?
finally
daybreak to awaken and to put to sleep
in the ache i feel it
every blister and cramp into firmness
to be held and kissed or bitten
or shattered, porcelain.
lived long enough to buy a pack of qing dao beer
tastes exactly as i alwayed imagined it
The smell,/. distinctly Chinese.
something they can't quite sniff out
and i walk too close to the platform's edge for someone scared of getting
pushed off it
sometimes I tire of looking for beauty in capitalism-
maladaptive habit learned young from parents?
lying to myself
someone tells me under their breath:
my mere presence warrants an HR meeting
without me, with everyone laughing.
I already knew something was up, so I don't care
in the ache i feel it
in the numbness it becomes i feel it still
the sway of each car a rhythmic lullaby
while heritage is a memory that keeps slipping
further away
at least here they don't recognize my deadname
but now i look like a man but talk as a girl
or do i look as a girl but talk like a man
headstrong
head filled with nicotine
Womb cradling a growing shrinking beer belly
caryying myself in the body parts i ought to tear out
it's in the trying to die
but having to live
in the numbness it becomes i feel it still
the way of each car a rhythmic lullaby
the same walk home, the same falling star
knowing i never want to be anything like him
the cold calls me to sleep, to dream
feet first and i can't stay long
april frostbite, going numb
in the ache i feel it
