god please/show me one dyke bar

Qiuhua sees it in the way the air blurs and shimmers when Yangfeng is near, the blood-clotting warmth and organ-squeezing butterflies.

Your hair’s longer now, you’ve stopped calling yourself ‘he’. You're not sure why you still call fifteen-year old you ‘he’. Probably just a habit. You are your mother’s child, after all.

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words seeds and sows. Ideas are planted through connections Conversations make them grow Nurtured through research and investigation The words are irrigation Whether a weed for pain and destruction Or a seed for change and representation  Words reap what they sow Stick and stones may break my…

Do you remember how you felt? I remember you saying “I wish I were a boy” out loud and proud almost every day, every single day, and yet never thinking to verbalise it.

i was listening to without you without them at home alone in the dark and started sobbing violently. this is why.

The buzzer for the nurse has been ringing for the past few minutes. The orchestra of beeps and buzzes are crescendoing. It’s burning into every crevice of my skin.

I suppose I am cursed and privileged to live in the space in between; Homesick here, homesick there.

They say Nguyen translates as musician or musical instrument so I concede perhaps my artistry belongs to my ancestors.

The stubbornness of wanting to become more than I could ever be has led me on my journey to study abroad in Australia. We always had a thirst to be different, but our desires always come at an expensive cost. 家，一直都會在的。家，一直會留在那一盒三十五塊的檸檬茶裏。