You might have heard about NaNoWriMo --National Novel Writing Month, an event taking place in the month of November, where thousands of writers across the nation try to write an entire novel in the span of one month. It takes a lot of work and several thousands of words per day (the novel has to be at least 50,000 words) to finish. It's something that I've attempted before, but never really been able to complete. Maybe someday!

On a related note, April is also known as NaPoWriMo --National Poetry Writing Month, where writers across the nation try to write one poem a day for the entire month of April. It coincides with National Poetry Month anyway, and it's a fun and slightly less strenuous exercise than NaNoWriMo.

Anyway, this past April, I completed 30 poems in 30 days, written about a myriad of topics such as my last year of high school, past romantic encounters and personal struggles with identity and such. I'm happy to say that I found them again just recently, on a file on my laptop, and have decided to publish them for the first time!

Please enjoy!

1/30

if the stars
were to align right
and if perhaps
the fabric of the universe
came undone
and if we were to meet
someday
i wonder what i’d do

though the truth is
it probably isn’t
any of the things i’ve said.

instead
i’d try to memorize
the lines of your face
the way your voice
vibrates on my skin.

i don’t think i’d even
touch you at all
except
to throw my arms around you
and not let
go.
- 1/30

2/30

perhaps i never noticed the
absence
in-between your words, the
silence
the quiet violence

my mother said
she never liked you, anyways
you, with your pretty eyes
you, with your soft hands

i could say i hate you, and i do,
sometimes
because i am no longer fifteen and desperate
to be reminded that i am alive

but god help me i am still writing poetry
about your carelessness
about your cruelty
i wonder if this is what they mean when they say
those we love never really leave.
- 2/30, "re: the empty spaces"

3/30

after eighteen years
the extent of my knowledge of my culture
culminates in two words

my response to:
low grades -
trời ơi
bad food -
trời ơi
my mother’s wrath -
trời ơi

when i visit my grandparents in the fall
and sit in their kitchen
the smell of beef broth and fragrant noodles
they ask me to speak
i smile, politely
nod, mutely
all the while thinking

oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

i always forget the words.
- 3/30

4/30

in another world, you take me to the rooftops
you brush my hair out of my eyes
and smile
in another world we are not nearly strangers
your eyes are not red
and i am not shy
in another world i know you better
in another world i know why
you offered to carry my books
when you already walk with your shoulders hunched
in another world we would be
kind, i think
if no one else will

in this world, i count
the number and colors of duct tape
holding you and your backpack together
in this world, you still go to
the rooftops
but only to get high.
- 4/30, "hey stoner boy, you have a nice smile"

5/30

i once thought about
writing my college essay from the perspective of
my shoes.

it seems to me like
they know where i’ve been
and where i’m going.
better than i do, at least.
- 5/30