In My Mind is the inner palace of my heart. For me, writing is a form of expression that requires bravery, because it asks the heart to speak its truth. Often, this means facing failure, embarrassment, shame, pain, and doubt. Yet there is a pureness in this bravery that I hope to cherish—a pureness that allows my inner child to live freely, in an open land.
I have nothing unforgettable, so I am light
The streetlight outside my window has fallen asleep—
it never used to rest.
What has come over it tonight?
Has it, too, forgotten
that wandering light must find a place to land?
There is no light tonight.
It has not yet arrived.
Only a cool, vacant stillness.
So I lie along the spine of the moon,
running my fingers again and again
over the grain of its bones.
The air thins.
My body begins to rise,
drifting with the night wind.
I have nothing unforgettable—
So I am light.
2024 May
Love Is a Star Falling into Dust
Sometimes I want to throw it all away
and fall into your arms,
as if that could hush last night’s tears.
But his love seemed to evaporate overnight,
Sorrow soaked through my heart.
You said life had drained you—
left your chest too withered to hold a lover.
So I fell on the ground.
Love
is a star falling into dust.
And the absence of love?
Just a light switched off in a room.
I touched his face
as if kissing a statue in sleep.
I let the silence speak for me.
Still, I was grey in your eyes.
The July rain has begun to feel like autumn.
My lover packs light—
he’s ready to sail.
I watched him fade away.
The rain poured in.
Some tears burn the heart.
Some only wet the palm.
I folded all my questions into the night.
The night stretches with darkness,
thick enough to swallow everything whole.
2025 July
I love this world and I resent it
I often drift into a sense of dislocation—
the world around me like water sliding past my body.
Why is my way of being with the world like this?
Is it shyness, or indifference?
Why can’t I embrace the world foolishly and fiercely,
be a dizzy bee
crashing into a stranger’s house,
reckless, risking everything at once?
My thoughts weigh heavily.
I love this world and I resent it.
I want to fly, yet don’t know how to be a bird.
I want to stay, yet don’t know how to build a nest.
My time came to a halt; my soul fell into sleep.
I asked the world if it might treat me gently.
It answered with a gaze of mercy.
And so I scattered—
like a dandelion.
2026 January (3rd edition)
2020 June (1st edition)