when i lived here, i was a girl
on edge. a coffee addict with a hopeless
sweet tooth. drifting about in a cloud
of anxiety. small. unassuming.
back then, i thought grades mattered.
had not yet had my first kiss. when asked,
i said i was from hong kong, which seemed at odds
with my american twang. so i twisted myself
into pretzels trying to fit in, splicing words
like toilet and lift into my diction
the future a mere possibility…
now i’m fully embedded in adulthood.
a matcha addict with a hopeless sweet tooth.
petite, not small. these days i walk with swag,
head thrust toward the sky. have feasted
on my share of beautiful men.
tell everyone i’m from new york,
which feels truer every day. no longer apologize
for who i am. i turn 30 this year,
which used to fill me with dread.
now i know better: if this decade’s
any indication, i have the rest of my days
to look forward to. a lifetime
of endlessly becoming.