counting petechiae

i counted the dots under my eyes
like i counted my calories
purple and green and red specks
freckled over dark rings
i stretched the skin
under my eyes
stretched them until my eyes went dry
try to wipe them off,
scrape them under my nails
i just stared into the mirror
close enough that my lashes would
brush against the glass
cold water running like white noise
i counted the dots under my eyes
purple and green and red specks.

Sweet candied yams

Sweet candied yams
steaming under buzzing heat lamps
bundled in brown paper bags
purple and red skins
glazed with honey.
Dearest, you’re kinda like a sweet candied yam:
You’re sweet,
and candied,
and a yam–
my sweet, candied yam. 


i run my fingers
up your serpentine spine
through your needle-like leaves
and carry your scent
like charred wood
between the grooves of my skin
i fall asleep with
a sprig of you coiled
in my hair
though i dream that you are a poison hemlock
around my neck
i wake to you, your aroma a name
engraved under my nails,
the dew of the sea.


Lately I’ve just been feeling so sad.
I just feel so fearful and small all the time. I absolutely dread the upcoming week. I need to calm down and just take one day at a time. I need to. But I just can’t and I feel so pathetic. I’m so sad and I’m so scared.  I feel helpless. I’m driven into anxiety attacks, fits of terror, when my mind wanders even a little. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know how to express a sadness that bullies me into silence.

English 229e

So I’m supposed to be giving an oral presentation today about propaganda to the beloved Doctor Ian Hill and his subordinates (the rest of the class), but I woke up to a whirlwind of snow and Vancouver’s Transit incompetence. So now, I’m sipping some coffee at cafe Artigiano, and I don’t really know what to do with myself.

I really want to give my presentation today. I absolutely dreaded it the entire week, (hell, even the first day I signed up), but now that I’ve mentally prepared myself for a full month and the oral isn’t happening, I feel like I’m a Wacky Inflatable Tube Man that lost willpower and is now just a Wacky (wo)man with no inflation.
I emailed my professor and told him that I’m immobile in 1 inch of snow and knee-deep in disappointment, and that I won’t make it. He responded in 000.2 milliseconds with a very kind “Understood. Good luck”.
I told my friend to Skype me in class and blow my face up on the projector so I can do my oral presentation. I don’t care– I stayed up all night, shaking in fear and muttering the first 3 lines of my presentation over and over again to imprint it in my mind. I will– absolutely must– deliver my oral.
Of course, it’s not gonna happen. But in the off chance that it does, the students and homie Doctor Ian Hill will probably just hear the cranking of coffee machines and other miserable people in the background.
I was lining up for the bus for maybe 40 minutes. A dozen other people stood out there with me, pale faced, in solidarity. A hoard of people then appeared from behind the hill and told us, “Bus ain’t coming. Stuck on the hill somewhere near Fraser”. And so, some people rolled their eyes, some marched on to catch another bus, and there was me and some other dude that looked at each other and said “I’m not walking to UBC”. And here I am now.
I look outside the window and see the few old Chinese ladies that waited with me for 40 minutes at the bus stop. All the others have left, but there they are: stout and eager, holding bags of groceries under their pretty umbrellas. I feel pride and warmth in me when I see them. It’s just a feel-good sight.

Anyway, I’m just gonna chill here for the while.
Thanks for reading, if you did. I just wanted to rant about the funny things in life.