brown girl magic

I am made out of magic,
& stories quite tragic,
Composed by the cosmos,
The stars and the static
A brown skinned girl
With an American tongue
Still somehow confused by what it means to be young
I’m a girl whose grown into
The child that I was
The same dreams and passions
Still deep in my blood
Where have I been,
& where am I going?
The trick is to keep moving
Without ever knowing,
I have cried at the beauty of being whole on my own,
Discovered what strength is by being alone,
Built my own home from the boughs of my bones,
While still learning to carry the weight of my soul.

above the coast

I woke up on a plane above the California coast,
a memory of who I was waiting for me like a ghost,
I have shed my skin like spring,
learned not to count this as a loss,
discovered moving forward
is always worth the cost.

I have learned how to unearth secrets,
that are stored within my soul,
learned that living in my solitude,
could make me feel more whole.

Learned how to fall in love with strangers,
for brief moments in my life,
the serendipity we shared
will stay suspended now in time.
I have crossed many oceans,
in search of myself,
climbed through the mountains,
to know truth in what I felt.

What has it meant for me,
to go out in search of meaning?
Savoring the seconds
in every new beginning?

Because life is just a cycle,
of lessons we repeat,
from when we’re born,
in different forms,
until the karma is complete.

So pay attention to the details,
because it’s not always the same,
synchronicities that guide you back the way you came.

The universe will take you,
exactly where you need to go,
combined with fate, which we create,
is all we need to know.
So here I am now,
having reached this journey’s end,
a resurrected soul ready to live her life again.

Why you’re alone

I’ve grown attached to the stormy solitude that rages inside my skin,
Have romanticized the idea of being alone, because I’ve forgotten there was any other way to be,
These sensitive surfaces yearn for
staccato touches,
Trembling fingertips along my softest parts,
But I’m too busy burning myself under the hot sun,
Proving I am worthy to some unknowing Greatness, & in pursuit of some deeper virtue,
I’m not sure even exists,
Because focusing on the development of my singular soul,
Is so much safer than subjecting myself to the troubled turmoils of ‘love’,
Misdirected attempts at searching for my reflection,
In the eyes of other people,
I’ve become poorly conditioned by a culture,
That taught me that true love exists in someone else, rather than in myself,
Yes, solitude is safer than being forced to confront,
The most liberating of truths,
That no one will ever give me, what I cannot give to myself.
And what I cannot find in myself,
I will find in the great depths of the world,
From the babbling brook to the cliff crashing waves,
In the flap of a bird’s wing, and in the space between stars,
& if there is some soul-igniting epiphany to be found,
In the touch of another,
Let it be as chaotic in nature as a passing monsoon rainstorm,
Unpredictable in its rhythm,
Leaving only rebirth and abundant regrowth in its wake.

Before you sleep

Lay me to sleep under the setting sun,
Forget-me-nots growing beneath my closed eyelids,
I am the restless sleep that haunts most nights,
Smoke twanging guitar chords in your eardrums,
Don’t forget me in your moonlit slumber,
My shadow stretched long across your door,
Every dream is just a strange story we tell ourselves,
About all the things we have yet to know,
so breathe easy as the twilight comes,
Watch the sky wash with indigo, like a veil pulled over your eyes,
Do not count your worries like beads on a rosary,

instead count your blessings the way you can infinitely count the stars,
There’s so much magic in the moments we re-live lost loved ones,
Besides, your restless soul cannot imagine,
all the beauty you have not seen.

my architecture

I have learned to precariously balance hope like a poorly built skyscraper,
Made of withered flowers and pencil shavings,
And every childhood dream I gave enough room to breath,
My heartbeat is the rumbling roar of bumblebees and the whispers of hummingbird wings,
My happiness the rose petal pink of a blood blushing sunset,
I carry the history of a far away place in the brownness of my skin, but not in the language on my tongue,
I have spent more time searching for myself outside my own country than in it,
I chase after some meaning in who I am, the same way birds fly south for the winter,
An instinctive desire for movement that I still can’t decipher,
I have created homes out of backpacks and between bookcovers, discovered the deepest of loves in the shortest of seconds,
I fear I love too fiercely for my own good, the same way flames do the forests they burn down,
I don’t know how to be halfway myself,
This uncontrollable storm of chaos and kindness, loveliness and rage,
I have found myself struggling to swim in the shallowest of waters,
Unable to simply stand up to my sea of insecurities,
Life taught me to question everything I thought I knew,
Only to re-learn the entirety of the world, over and over again,
I have learned that loss is just as much a part of life as love,
I have learned that the shape of the world is no different than the clenched curvatures of a woman’s fist,
And I have learned the tricky truth about movement, is that walking too far in one direction only leads you back to the exact same place.
Humans were not meant to live in nostalgia, but to rebuild new homes inside of themselves, like every flower that fought to grow between the bricks of fallen rubble,
So I will seek solace in the solitude inside my own skin,
And I will take this hummingbird heart, my wilted flowers, and every lesson I have learned,
To every new horizon, until I finally manage to run out of ways to rediscover myself.

Sunset mantra

Let happiness heal you, in all the ways it knows how,
a way of becoming that only time will allow,

Observe the pattern of the universe, in the chime of a bell,
in the flutter of a bird’s wings, in the shape of a shell,

Breathe through your lungs, feel the earth like a stone,
drink sacred water to light fire in your bones.

You are not merely flesh, pumped to life with only blood,
you are mountains of memories, carved of chaos, called to love.

Seek not your imperfections, but the beauty you entail,
your secret subtleties that hide the bliss behind the veil.

You are constantly creating the person you become,
A force to be reckoned with, not known to just the young.

To know yourself is to love yourself, the truth that must be written,
to sell your soul, to feel your whole, was not sold to us as fiction.

So continue causing galaxies across the universe,
create positive vibrations with a future you re-word.

You are more than just a moment someone taught you to rehearse,
you contain divine intention that can truly change the world.

Photo c/o Jonathan H. Lee