Short fiction and poetry author in Honolulu, Hawaii.
It was when I finally said, "Enough." I was finishing my bachelor's degree and had just turned 29. After a nearly ten-year-long battle with mental health issues, I was, at last, getting on with my life, or so it seemed. I was eager to leave behind my struggles with mental illness and just live. And I'd made so much progress already. The fact that I was finishing my degree was evidence of that.
Night of the Heathens
It was our senior year of high school with only a month to go before graduation. One of my closest friends at the time was a girl named Kay. We'd known each other since the fourth grade and had been friends ever since. We bonded over a similar wacky sense of humor, Super Mario games on SNES, and What Lies Beneath with Michelle Pfeiffer.
Knock, knock. Who's there? It's me, he said. And it's me, she said. I hesitate and anxiolate. I say I'm not home.
"I want to live," said Florus. A moment of silence ensued as the entire class of 16-year-old boys stared at Florus from behind his seat in the front row. Florus' cheeks suddenly burned red and he felt hot beneath his collar. It was the truth though, and he didn't care that he might suffer for it. If God were to ask him what he wanted most, that's what he would say.
If there's anything abundant in our American society today, I would have to say it's emotional and psychological hurt. I don't believe there's a person alive that hasn't experienced the pain that this world has to offer, but in America in particular, people are hurting. In recent months the entire world, and especially the United States, have seen immense pain and grief with the onslaught of covid-19. Lives have been upended and cases of mental health issues have skyrocketed. I've seen friends and family, people who I figured were impervious to things like anxiety, suddenly deal with mental health problems they've never experienced before. And I know what this means and what it feels like, because I've been there, and I want to tell others that healing, even from deep trauma, is real and attainable.
I refused my inheritance Of a nation. Its wounds are ugly, Its closets deep. I hate your darkness. Be better, my fantasy.
Colors of Freak
Last night I danced with Jupiter, His chromatic bands swirling. Love and joy had me flowing free. Gold in my aura, silver flecks of glee.