I'm From What's Left Behind

I am from water lilies that lie from the edge of the bank

hardly staying afloat

with the weight of the world on its fingertips

from glistening waters

to the crashing waves of its water-falls

I am from the sturdy pile of unflipped pages

in hardcover novels that have only been collecting dust

I am from the wasted time

from calendar pages ripping of its brimming

as the fingertips of my own rub and dirty a screen of glass

I am from my mother’s womb

my mother’s love

my mother’s hatred

from the hatred amongst my parents

amongst my friends

amongst my self

I am from September 06

where I was brought into a world where

pieces of society lay motionless

a puzzle you’re forced to solve

a game you’re forced to play

when none of it is what you wanted

Yet I am from Korea

My mother’s ancestry gunned down

by koreaboos and k-pop fans

that call our culture their own

I am from Taiwan

Where long ago (not long enough) young boys as young as ten

Are expected to train into strong men

that hate their wives almost as much as they hate their lives

Who work only to make money for the family

Who work only to provide a future for me and my brothers

For trying to mask his traditional mind

In the end he’s still his father’s son

I am from my parents

Blood by blood we share a soul

It isn’t fair it isn’t mine

What’s theirs to keep they give to me

Another burden

another lie

I am from tangly white earphones

playing music, playing songs into the otherwise loud nature

of the people walking by

I’m from a mango’s nectar

bottled up in Cupertino

where a six-year-old me took a sip from its juice

and smiled

And I’m from America

The hearts of some in blatant denial

Though it states it on my passport

My eyes are dark my nose wide

I take pride in my ethnicity

They say, go back to your own country

When in truth 1607

Native land was colonized

I’m from the little black notebook

storing my doodles and my poetry

I keep in my back pocket

From people that might want it

I’m from apprehension

From holding back the words underneath my tongue

From keeping barbaric opinions

before the form of fists

And I’m from what’s left behind

of what I’m hoping to forget

I’ve learned only what I’ve taught myself

A quiet teacher

An eager kid