late luminescence

photo: Houston, TX

again.

it feels like everything ive written has already been written
before im 19 and already a broken record player from far away
enough, similar things just become the same me wish i knew how
to dance. i wish i knew a defiance
uncorrelated with violence. i leave a kindness out to rot in
its plastic togo cup on
my desk, and in silence
it curdles and goes. sour. i keep meaning to toss
it but never seem to get it done. maybe if i make
it poetic enough, it’ll be worth
keeping again that’s another problem
with me– i won’t get anything done until
i have to what happens when the world does not force

me to adapt– will i

ev
er
grow? or just keep
hit
ting
return.

first written 5/18/23, edited on 8/10/23

August 10, 2023 No comments

photo: Kemah Bay, TX

Hello, hello, hello. Once again, it's unfortunately been a long time. Every time I decide I want to restart regularly posting on here, it seems I end up talking myself out of it. While Blogger is indeed a very annoying platform to work on (when first setting up the site I spent hour getting it to look somewhat what I had in mind, and there are lots of limitations that are complicated to circumvent), I've also decided that for continuity's sake, I do want to continue my journey here. This is aided by the fact that I have a very very great abundance of time on my hands now, given then your girl is back from Houston (my brother got a NASA internship!!!), job-less, internship-less, and generally bereft when it comes to all things life. Oh, and it’s summer vacationnnnnn!

As it turns out though, I do also conveniently have a lot of writing stored up from the past year that hasn't seen the light of day since being written. One thing I've also struggled with since the start of Late Luminescence is how to date pieces. Is it when I write them? Or edit them? Decide to post? What if I edit them again? I've finally come to a decision to stick with my practice of having the publish date and time be the first date I started writing the piece, but also including “edited on” dates. This allows me to retain the journal-like quality of my writing journey as it corresponds with my life, along with permitting me to edit my old pieces so that they can all shine to their full potential.

Lastly, I’d love to give this place some love and a revamp! Just making sure all the margins are on point, the alignments are all right, etc. So, that’s the plan… we’ll see what happens!

June 29, 2023 No comments

photo: from the window of my freshman dorm in Berkeley, CA

howdy :)) it's been around six months... instagram kind of has become an addiction, IM IN COLLEGE (bizarre to think the last time i posted i wasn't... that's how normal it's become?), and it's nearly the end of winter break. i've been writing, i promise. 2023: to new chapters!

January 14, 2023 No comments

You blink and look and stare

and stare

As if trying to find the snag in the dream
the catch in the sweater
the cards hidden up someone's sleeves

The meaning of this miracle that tapped you on the elbow
in a coffee shop last week
bright with a smile and a "how are you doing?"

accusatory eyes searching, wanting to know

if you still kept the ashes
of a flame,

clung to the warmth
of a trail

listened for the thrum
of a heartbeat

long cold.

posted on: https://youngwritersproject.org/node/46070

October 03, 2022 No comments

photo: yet another sunset in Arcadia, CA

Yesterday in the shower I washed dried cherry juice from under my nails and remembered how at dinner I inspected a heart between my fingers and cut it open with a knife. The blade was red and I tried to press the plump flesh to my lips in hopes it would make me beautiful.

I am a villain of this story, which is really to say I am the writer who is playing all of their characters at once. I am the god, I am the heartbroken and the heartbreaker, I am the sadistic manic who sits quietly in the corner and consults the main character to get the hell over herself.

The water washes away my dramatics, and underneath I am a canvas of bitter pith covered in the crescent indents of a forgotten fury. I am the sister who pretends to sleep when the ants go mad. I am an evil I haven’t met before. Even after the days have gone by, I look at my pink fingertips and swear I can still feel the red.

July 23, 2022 No comments

photo: bedroom in Arcadia, CA

lie down and flex our toes // arms stretching towards an ache, // winding and unspooling at every muscle's whim // time babbling on in the low hum of our silence

I decide I've had enough of playing Angel and scrape limbs up off the carpet to settle down beside you.

lying cheek to chest // hair splayed vaguely beside, behind, and above us // cool air settling on our skin // everywhere // but where we rest against the other

I pinch your gray shirt between my fingers rub the fabric together, and your ribcage depresses.

lain inside a wide expanse of thinly filtered light // through windows onto skin // manufactured memories // brilliantly shadowed playrooms // where we spun while the world // failing to stand still

I roll over so my arms fold beneath my chin that tries to stab your chest, and you smile with your eyes closed.

waiting for the // // tick tock // // second chances? // // when did this become a game? // // pleas(e)?

And then someone makes a noise and you cave into your smile and when you open something breaks or maybe that something is someone and maybe that someone is me. And then you muse aloud that you wish everything could stay the same.

except nothing is // blinking // anymore.

"except nothing," i // curse-(or) // inside.

except nothing // will erase // this moment.

except not // all of // us were meant be mortal.

except // us. //

// // (I liked to dream.)

July 21, 2022 No comments

photo: concrete crack in Arcadia, CA

The game plan: WE ARE GOING TO WRITE EVERY. DAY. Draft a piece every night however I need to, and then "publish" the piece on here the next morning/noon (because you girl isn't a morning person). The pieces are going to be, and I am purposely using crass language here, shitty. The worst thing you've ever read. No expectations. I'm never going to be a freaking writer if I don't write. And for Tanvi and Nelly and all of my friends who have watched Set It Up, I'm essentially clobbering myself with a pillow and declaring that I won't stop eating salsa and chips until I see this through. Lovely. Thank you for staying for my dramatics.

7/22/22 Update: I WILL GIVE MYSELF REWARDS! Reward for one week will be being able to post/story (depending on confidence level) about my favorite piece of the week :))

July 21, 2022 No comments

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