Bluefish
In a shoal of yellowfish there is a bluefish
She rolls in between waves and makes some bubbles, following the flow
Unlike others, she has eight seconds of memory
She swims to a yellowfish and wishes to make friends
But her friends would always forget who she is before she does
She then swims back with sorrow, but forgets the reason of her sorrow
She moves on, though
She would keep trying until she gets tired and falls asleep
and continues the next morning
One day, she meets another bluefish in the shoal
The first second she sees him, the next second they fall in love
The third second they hold hands
The fourth second they dance
The fifth and sixth second they have the happiest time in their lives
The seventh second he kisses her
Tick, time resets, he looks at her with confusion
It turns out that he doesn’t have the eighth-second memory
Eventually, the extra second is torment
Puzzle
Sun ray shoots into the unopened dusty room
You can see everything
Even the smallest particle in the air
is reflecting the immeasurable energy from the sun
Through the narrow gap
the patched curtain and the old rotten window frame makes
in the dusty order
lying a box of puzzle from a fraction of my sealed memory
It was a cozy fall afternoon
Puzzle pieces cluttered on the floor
Bang. Voice of smashing and yelling entered my room, but I stopped
caring
We used to solve puzzles together
Mom found the pieces, and Dad was the expert in putting them together
When we finish one, we put it in a frame and hang it on walls
Home was always filled with laughter
After, only I was left to solve the puzzles
They stopped living in the same room, stopped talking to one another
Home turned into the quietest street with two strangers
I solved my last puzzle, but the last piece was gone
I rummaged my room again and again
Clothes were scattered, and books were torn apart
“It’s gone,” I told myself.
“Things are not the same as before.”
Puzzle was broken up again
The last piece of my memory was sealed back in box
I’ve Gotten Used to You
I’ve gotten used to watch you paint canvas
Dye plain white into beautiful flowers
And I would sit by your side for hours
Recall the time when we first met in Vegas
I’ve gotten used to play the game of alias
When we pretend not knowing each other
And you would always call yourself Parker
I always lost, but I became your devas
I’ve gotten used to your imperfections
I’d say I love you and you always knew
I was the only girl you would fall for
All your weaknesses were like perfections
I’ve gotten used to every part of you
Yet you are not beside me anymore
Delusion (I)
Where eyes can see are burning vermilion, extending
to the very end of the sky. Something leaps into
the air, and spreads around us.
“Do you actually exist?”
He stops walking and looks
into the sky. Sunset outlines the finest
shape of his side profile.
“Who knows.
Perhaps yes, if you believe.”
“Isn’t there a more accurate answer?
How can you prove that you exist?”
Unsatisfied, I yell towards his back figure.
“Use your faith, your
hands and your feelings,
to create my existence”
Air delivers a word, but I
know it is not from him.
If you believe,
I exist. If you don’t,
I would vanish.
Crisp wind draws a cut on
my face, I run back home in his camel trench coat.
Delusion <II>
How did he walk into my life?
Under what kind of dawn, dusk,
or what kind of rainy night,
did he recklessly enter my life?
“how are you blanking
out even after class?” I clear my thoughts
and look at him. He sits on the table
right beside me, eyes are as clear as
the water in Buntzen Lake.
“I will finish your homework for you.
Let’s go home.”
Outside of classroom are crimson sunsets.
Traffics all light up their headlights,
like flowing flames.
“You are home early today.” Mom says.
“He finished the homework for me.”
“…Again?”
I nod. I am friends with him since we we were small,
mom knows him as well.
She sighs and walks back into her bedroom.
Door closes.
Delusion <III>
“How was the sleep last night?”
He stands in front of my door,
as usual. I take the breakfast from
his hand and walk down the street.
“It’s alright.” I swallow the last piece of
bread. Sunlight escapes from thick layers of
cloud and projects mild glows on ground.
“Why do I exist on this world and be able to feel everything?”
He steps forward with his left foot, Shadow follows him.
No matter how hard it tries, it can only be connected to him.
Like invisible chain.
“Just like this, if I hope it to do something,
it has to follow.” He stares at the asphalt road. “But,
how can I assure that the shadow
is not belong to someone else? How can I assure if
everything I am feeling right now is real?”
It feels like my heart just missed a beat.
“Just joking,” he pulls me up from the chair
“it’s time to get back to school.”
I let him pull me back on the street,
like soaked in iced water.
“Why is that girl talking to herself?”
I stare at the pedestrians with confusion,
our shadows prolonged under sunlight.
Delusion <IV>
How long have I not seen a sunset?
He takes off his scarf and tangle it around
my neck. “Look up,” he says.
It’s snow, I never thought I would see snow
in this small town in the south. Snow flakes
falls off from the blank sky, like marshmallows.
“Do you want them to become bigger?”
The voice feels
like it comes from the other side. “…hm?”
Wind blows in my ear with snow flakes,
he runs to me and grabs my arm. We are running
down the staircases. His hand burns in
winter wind. He suddenly stops in front of me,
and my nose gets hit on his back bones.
I didn’t hug him like the characters on tv shows, although
I had to admit it was hard to resist.
I can’t hug him.
The four words bangs inside my head, turning
My brain into the messiest glue paste.
I can’t hug him.
I will lose him.
I don’t know how did the thought appear inside my head,
I don’t want to know. In every way,
the word “losing” sounds terrifying enough.
I look up. He stands on one stair above
me, smiling. Is this really him?
“you are not real after all.”
A girl crying on staircase, with sunset
and snow, makes up the last photo of the life.
“I was the invisible light and dust. You
made me up from your imagination.”
The voice I have been hearing for 17 years
telling the truth word by word.
“The day when you stop to believe in
my existence, it’s the time for me
to go. He died in a car crash four years
ago. And you, have been living in your world
for four years now.”
Air in my lungs are almost emptied, all there are left
are the undispersible painfulness.
“Even though this is the end of the end,
I still have something for you to say.”
Delusion <V>
“what did he wanted to say, Grandma?”
“I thought I liked you.”
“What about now?”
“I will wait for you.”
Finishing the sentence, she is like
she just got into a long sleep.
Dream that is impossible to be waken from,
What is inside?
