3/30/2020 (a poem/journal)

It’s always been her.

Ever since I saw that tiny human pass me by
in the gym while I was doing pull-ups,
it was her.

And now, locked inside my own home
dreaming of a darker skin than
the one I call my own,
I can travel the world from my couch,
surf the Bali breaks from my phone
and kiss a girl through an app.

This is really living, isn’t it?

I spent my childhood speeding toward that graduation,
thinking the exit door would
burst forth richer life,
and now,
all I want is to reverse time.
You’re only in high school once.
I will never be in high school again,
or anything that went before it,
or college.
Life only moves in one direction and
the more I expect it to happen to itself,

the less it actually does.

So here I go,
proposing to another woman in my mind,
painting our lives together
against the backdrop of my own desires.

I hope she likes what I want.


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