Glee Therapy

Excuse me as I type furiously away

as I’ve already wasted

more than half a day

thinking about you.

I have to write something

so that I might be productive again.

Gosh, it’s like a high school dream again…

Except no, no it’s not.

Yes, it’s a drive to a high school dance,

but it’s also the passenger seat of your roommate’s car,

and the eyes that are on me as I step out in heels and a red dress

and you dance with me to every



It’s a ride to early voting,

eating cereal at 2 in the afternoon

and talking about all our plants.

It’s Friday afternoons at work

where the rolling chairs and slick floors

are more enticing than homework assignments.

It’s so new, so childish, and yet it feels like we’ve grown up

for this.

To be hurt in the worst way


and yet not be scared enough to try again.

To know what’s it’s like to be in the darkest depths

and on top of the world…

It’s so cringey to be writing cheesy poems again,

but I’m happy that my biggest problem

is thinking about you

too much.



I’ve talked once before

about my red’s and blue’s,

how my moods often mix

both these beautiful hues.

Yet in hindsight I see

more than aesthetic shades,

and know I live behind

both of these masquerades:

My bedroom has been blue

since I came to this land,

rather shy and marked by

futures I didn’t plan.

But my blue writes my poems

and puts me to sleep.

She is there through it all,

in the veins I stain deep.

But red is the martyr

who then saves the day,

and says blue is too shy

to have things run her way.

She is loud, she is proud,

and the critics confer;

Every face in this land

could fall in love with her.

And I wish to be violet,

but they always fight.

Telling me it’s not me,

and that shade isn’t right.

Either I can write tales

of futures crystal clear,

or talk effortlessly to a boy

who is so, so near…

Perhaps this is my chance,

in this time and this place,

to fall head over heels

with a sky smile on my face.

I have shown you each side,

how they fight and they fray.

And though it doesn’t matter…

I hope that you stay.

Portrait 12


What a wonder it was

for tarnished eyes to see–

an old Ganesha charm

hanging down gracefully

from a vineyard of beads

that reside on my wrist–

“Oh who would ever think

it was them that I missed?”

When I gave them away

in a misguided plea.

“Here’s my heart, take good care–”


he’s never taken care of silver, has he?

He won’t know that it takes

more than one “I love you.”

It takes hard work and trust

to make love shine like new.

He never saw it darken,

a tragedy so,

until he was wise enough

to just let it go.

And I thank him, for that

(And I’ll also thank you).

Now it’s polished and primed,

and it knows what to do.

To help this young girl learn

to shine bright and be true.

“Do your best and just be

unapologetically you!”

(And if this poem stings,

I do not mean you pain.

I just felt it was right

to write something again.

And I won’t bite my tongue

for no ghost in the fray

You have chosen to read,

so you’ll hear what I say.)

So come on, little girl

and wear your silver dress.

The sun is shining bright

and you’re looking your best.

Find the life you deserve,

love, laugh, and never quit.

You have your heart back now,

so go out and use it!


Silly Love Songs


oh no,

you’ve broken into my radio

and the waves whisper your name

in the car as I drive far from home.

And I would ask you kindly

to stay in your lane,

but no.

Instead your voice hums in every chord

and your face appears in each lyric.

Whether it’s pain


or a long night,

you always take the stage.

And I would ask you kindly

to let me write my own page,

with the book still dedicated

to you.

But alas,

oh no,

that’s just the way things will go.

Because whether it’s five days

or 50 years,

I’ll never be able to listen to the radio.

Music is My Life by Qinni

“Music is My Life”

I Have Returned

I could explain why I disappeared for five months if anybody wanted me to, but I’m not going to go to huge lengths to say it all. I’m assuming you’ll probably hear about it somewhat in the writings to come, anyway. Basically I got worn out, and I pushed myself too far. I spent a few months with no desire or ability to write, then a few with a desire, yet no real strength to get back to doing what I loved. And then last night, at around 10 PM, I wrote again after five wordless months with no hesitation, and decided, no, was pulled back into my blog.

I’ve constantly tried to turn my writing into a craft or a profession, something that I could use to officially create a name for myself (ironic, right?). But the truth is that writing is only therapy to me. It comes when I need it the most, and goes away when my mind can’t handle it. But after the most crazy and most amazing senior year I could have ever asked for– after romance, graduation, and a slightly unhealthy amount of anxiety– here I am. Still truthful, still real, and still without a name, although maybe not for long…

The posts will continue to ebb and flow as I do, and I hope that you all, once again, will join me. This next stage of my life is going to be very interesting, I’ve been told. And hopefully very poem-worthy.

Sincerely yours,


Ebb and Flow

I could write dissertations

on the science of happiness

But I don’t.

Instead I write poems

(or a lack thereof)

and wade through its ebbs and flows,

watching as it drowns me

eludes me

brings me forward

pushes me away–

And I would study its every molecule,

separate its every hue,

document every euphoria,

diagnose every anxiety,

and spend each day observing every bright wonderful night

if only I knew





“Bright Wonderful Night”


I’m going to run away–

not from you, not from you

I’m going to run away.

I’m going to run away,

and if true, not from you

will I ever run away.

Will I ever run away?

If I do, if I do,

it will be a splendid day.

I will fly so far away

without you, to the blue

where the crouching tigers play.

But I will not run away–

not from you, if I do,

we will see another day.

Where the crouching tigers play,

I’ll run through, back to you

and refuse to be their prey.

I don’t want to run away.

Though I do, not from you

does my heart wander astray.

Yet I must now run away.

If I stay, if I stay

my future will never play.

Now I ask of you to stay

if you do, if you do

then I will come back someday.

In my heart I hope and pray

that you do, God, please do–

See my knees here where I lay.

And then soon I’ll run away

from that blue, back to you,

as if six months were a day.

And I’ll always run this way

and I’ll stay, when I do.

Yes I’ll stay…

I’ll run to you

because you make home not so far away.

“Ocean, Stars, Sky, and You”