Have I held on
too tightly to who I am
and avoided facing
who I could
possibly be?
It is a relief to see
myself for who I am
and that I am further
along than I used to be,
but I soon turn
against myself.

Why do I do this again?
Deep down, I know,
that if I truly felt
like I was enough
and fully content,
I wouldn’t have to wonder
because there would be
no wondering left to do.

I am still daunted by the possibilities, I am still afraid to drown in this truth, anticipating that…

I should have realized
long ago that I can never
scale the great blue mountains,
cross rivers and valleys,
or venture through
the unknown
with the weight
of yesterday
and many other
yesteryears
on my shoulders.

In trying to prove
that I can be strong
by bearing the burdens
of my younger selves
to this day,
I am weakened —
but not merely weakened,
I am crushed.

But it never had to be
that way —
and it no longer has to.

I cannot set myself free by keeping reminders of how I have continuously remained small, frightened, insufficient, and…

Ever since February this year, I started to get way too much in my head and seriously doubting my abilities as a writer, and consequentially, both my quantity (and if you get really objective) quality have stagnated, at least for blog posts and articles.

However, engagement is steadily going up for poetry, compared to January through February. Not that outside validation matters or means anything, but what matters most was that I wrote from the heart and decided to overcome my fear of not being good at free verse. …

When the thunder rolls
and the sky bears witness
to a solemn prophecy,
the birds seek
after shelter,
accepting what can be
and what can never be —
but where do I roam
when the darkest valley
compasses me about
for miles without end?

Like all wayfaring strangers
that have passed through here,
I look to the sky
and seek after a sign —
anything that leads me onward,
beyond all the lowly sights
I see that keep me
far away from home.

But I am still wondering
when I can rise up
and brave the storm.

I was a…

They say it is a curse
to look at life
and who you are
and what you wish
to make of yourself
wistfully,
from the eyes of a romantic,
a soul forged in
the furnace of times bygone.

They say survival of the fittest,
survival of the most
cutthroat and conforming,
survival of those
who are quick to sell
what the masses
are addicted to
for instant gratification
is the only way to live
and be seen as worthy
of praise and a legacy.

I blamed myself and spent many years wishing I weren’t the way I was — I…

Moment by moment,
I am unfurling
like the story inscribed
upon the scroll
that once was buried
within my troubled heart —
I am lay open,
bleeding,
but freely flowing.

I am a flower
blooming at dawn,
I am the soft
hush of spring’s
westward wind,
I am a stream
embracing the wisdom
of this unyielding
mountainside.

I am the sky’s open arms,
leading my kindred spirits
and sojourning birds
back home.

There will be no need to lay down this weary soul of mine — for it is meant to capture the grandeur of rarities unseen, of a subtle…

It’s no secret that I self-deprecate far more than it is healthy. …

When I was in high school, I was trying to figure out how many AP classes to sign up for, and here was the exact question I googled:

“Is it better to get a B in an AP class or an A in a regular class?”

But in this competitive world where your standing has to be higher than your peers in order to be considered for anything worthwhile, it was obvious that the answer was this:

“An A in an AP class. Anything below that is not good enough. Don’t even bother with regular classes.”

Writing online and high…