The Roads We Have Taken

two paths diverged from a road
you took one and I, the other
when we look back at the roads we traveled
both of us will be sorry for what we had
But I will be the sorrier for not being the friend you wished you had

two paths diverged from a road
I had to find my own way
because you had already been long gone
when my eyes opened to see it was only a ghost of you that I had been loving all along

two paths diverged from a road
I left you unwillingly while you gaily alighted away
and it cleaved my heart in two to see we no longer had common ground

two paths diverged from a road
I hope it has made me braver in choosing my own

a response to Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken

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Golden Record: The Ultimate Mixtape

3500 miles per hour
spinning out beyond the known limits of our galaxy
is a recording
of the electrical impulses of a mind and body in love
and while I’m listening to this podcast
I can’t help but make a metaphor out of this
this is how you stole my heart
every time I look at you
you send my heart
shooting off into the dangerous, beautiful cosmos
stealing all of the breath out of my lungs
there is no oxygen in this perfect vacuum
nothing but gas and dust particles
and distant lights from suns that shone 13 eons ago
maybe nothing will become of this golden record
it will be lost in the dark expanse of time and space
or maybe
someone or something
will decipher the static of brainwaves
the sound of flowing air whooshing in and out of lungs
the thudding of a yearning heart
Perhaps they may listen
And have a tiny glimpse into the passion that defines mankind
-inspired by Radiolab

F***boy

she pushes you against the wall
after school in a hidden hallway
pushing her lips to yours like you are the air she breathes
her kisses are innocent like forget-me-nots
warm like breezy summer nights at the beach before a crackling fire
she pushes you against the wall
after passing period
and instead of passion you taste possession
her lips trail the boundaries on your skin that mark you for her own
you wonder when did your kisses become a show for the people watching
she pushes you up against the wall
After your football game
she is too sweet like candy you have gorged yourself on
All you feel is guilt when she finally leaves
Despite your efforts, she caramel sticks to parts of you
Refusing to let go
she pushes you up against the wall
After she finds you kissing someone else
her lips have become the mouth of a roaring dragon
her words sear across your skin like fire
and when she leaves you forever
all you feel is a cold relief
You used to watch her from afar
a trophy wife, you wanted to claim her
but when you finally had what you wanted
there was nothing left to make you stay
P.S. Sorry guys I know I shared this 4 months ago, but I added the last paragraph and I hope you guys can still enjoy it. Please comment what you thought. I want to perform this for slam poetry in the future.

LA Adventures

I.
There is a tree in Little Tokyo where passersby have tied their wishes on scraps of paper.
Maybe it’s the thought that the rain will wash away the evidence of naked longing that people allow themselves to be vulnerable and share their fervent desires.

“I want to make it into UCLA ‘22”

“I want to find love.”

But even if the ink washes away the memory of pen on paper,
Ink filled raindrops soak into the drought-parched soil
Where I have faith our dreams are planted and take root to blossom into being.

II.
I remember standing at the top of Griffith Observatory.
Staring at the city below instead of the planets above,
How depressing this sight is
That they call Los Angeles the City of Stars
Because we are cold and apart from each light shining below
Many are fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, documented, undocumented persons
Whom we forget are toiling at night for people who can enjoy fine dining on nights such as these
These luminous point map out those who are not resting with their loved ones
My heart is aching for these incandescent bodies devoid of warmth

thoughts from a girl who’s never been kissed.

I think the title of this post explains the premise of this post pretty well. I never kissed, never held hands, never done anything remotely romantic. I think that is mainly because I scare away everyone, and also because I’m a low maintenance type of person. I wouldn’t say I’m ugly, but I wouldn’t say I am beautiful because that would be an inaccurate representation of my self. There are days where I will wake up in the morning for school (like today) where I realize lamentably that I have again, forgotten to brush my hair. NO WORRIES! I used the magic power of finger brushing! I’m Asian, my hair is straight so it’s easy :D. But yeah, the closest I have ever even gotten close to anything even looking suspiciously romantic was getting someone’s number, and it was because I lent them a book as an excuse to keep in touch. That’s how I roll. 😉 Another reason I have never date is for religious reasons, I’m a Christian and I definitely think there are A LOT of benefits of not having premarital sex! Also, high school relationships are messy, and I’m not a huge fan of them…

But… (oh yes there’s a but…)

I’ve been thinking recently about how I want to be a writer/poet/english major. I really believe that in order to be a good creative writer, you need to have experienced life. The more that a writer experiences, the more that he/she has the ability to relate to his/her audience. Everyone talks or reads about summer flings while I just stand in a corner by myself just smiling because I have no experience. And I don’t know how I am supposed to relate to the 99% of the world that has more experience than me in relationships. I have to operate in the tiny 1% that makes up me, myself, and I. Maybe this long rant is just because I’m looking for an excuse to confess to the person I liked I mentioned above. It’s so hard because I really like this person, but I have so much religious guilt over whether my desires are holy. It’s obviously not holy, but I am sometimes crazy for this person, and desperately want them to like me.

Or… (oh yes this goes on…)

Or maybe, one day, I’ll be grateful to my high school prudent self in 10 or so years when I find the right person and when I feel like God has defined the parameters that which he wants me to be in concerning a relationship.

Either way… I’m just ranting and procrastinating. I have so much work to do. I just really needed to get this off my chest because I never talk about my crushes with friends or family. I keep it on the down low and there’s a reason why. Maybe more on that later.

Baiii, I hope you can relate if you are in the 1% ❤

love,

Ji

Trailblazer 

You must think that I am like the others before
Who coat hung themselves to you yearning to not be forgotten and left trampled on the ground

I am of a different sort.

Before reaching to you, I am grounded in myself

You are not a raft boat that I am searching for in this sea because I am not drowning

I learned how to swim for myself long before you reached out benevolently

Do not think you are saving a damsel in distress because I am the hero in my own story 

This road to self love was not easy so dismiss any notion that I will just hand over my individuality.

Kissing

she pushes you against the wall
in the hidden hallway
pushing her lips to yours like you are the air she breathes
her kisses are innocent forget-me-nots
warm like breezy summer nights at the beach before a crackling fire

she pushes you against the wall
in passing period
and instead of passion you taste possession
her lips trail the boundaries on your skin that mark you for her own
when did her kisses stop being for you and for the people watching

she will push you up against the wall
after your football game
she is too sweet like candy you have gorged yourself on
when she finally leaves
you can still feel how she sticks to parts of you refusing to let go

she will push you up against the wall
after she finds you kissing someone else
her lips have become the mouth of a roaring dragon
her words sear across your skin like fire
and when she leaves you forever all you feel is a cold relief

-because you are a F***boy

My Problems with 13 Reasons Why

A tv show does not make you the expert on suicide
the reality is much more painful and less dramatic
sometimes there are no reasons why
you have this gaping sadness that swallows you whole every morning
there are no explanations why you feel every moment like you are drowning on dry land
There are not enough reasons why
our minds cannot help but rewind like cassette players
replaying over and over the worst moments as if it just happened
we cannot stop cutting ourselves with memories
so we become our own enemies stuck in a nightmarish replay
there are girls, whenever they look into mirrors they hate themselves because no matter how many breakfasts, lunches, dinners, they skip
despite the number of ribs they can count through their skin
they still can’t reach the perfection of alabaster plastic surgery skin on our screens
And we push away the people around us because we think it’s better to hold this weight on our own because we are constantly afraid that others would find us disgusting when they see how much baggage we carried
sometimes suicide is not revenge,
it is a decision you make when you truly believe that death would be better than any life when you are tired of this act of breathing in air
Often times, it is not the people around us to blame, but the sickness in our mind that eats away at our will to live, our purpose, our happiness
and it is a decision leaving crushed bones, families and dripping blood.
Blood. My friend almost died from losing too much blood after cutting herself in her bathtub at home.
It was not a gratuitous moment but one that was so horrifying, she can’t look at blood anymore.
Do you understand now?
our struggle is an ocean of anguish that cannot be measured and should never be cashed in for it’s worth as a drama.

Clarinet Memories

I hear them whisper dirty things about you
that you sent nudes to a man
while you were still with another
but all I still remember is your smile
the kindness you showed me
it’s hurtful to hear all these things about you
I wonder what happened to the girl who I used to know
Who called us clarinet buddies in elementary school
We would giggle and whisper in between measures of rests
you played songs to my lonely heart when I was an alien in a new school
But you left band in the 8th grade
Middle school is where they say you fell off the deep end
Now in high school
we don’t talk anymore
I see you pass by class to class
but we are entities in spheres that are worlds apart
I wonder when did this madness begin for you
I wonder if we had just stayed in touch
What we could have both been
But tomorrow
or next week
I will see you pass by again
but this time instead I will stop you
Pause a moment to say hi and ask how you are doing
You were a friend from my past who made me a home
A safe place between the measures of rests and notes
So it’s the least I can do
to just stop and give you a moment of my time