from your hand red roses flew

from your hand red roses flew as you fell;
you closed your eyes and sang to the gods
with a colorless voice.

grey laughter tore your throat, purple
bruising the softness beneath your eyes.
fluorescent light washed your face white
and flat and clean, like untouched paper –

i still remember when my heart
beat against your hand with an
irregular rhythm: a lonely pulse one
second, constant humming for another five.

on gusty nights we shared a blanket and a
slice of cherry pie – warm, sweet and slightly
tart (like the taste of your lips), the same
muted red as the heat in your cheeks –
while my stomach grew full with your love.

on the morning after you stood at the kitchen sink
making coffee and breakfast. light poured through
the unbearable cold and soaked your bony bare arms,
which were hollow and bent, almost like the wings
of a bird poised for flight


one meeting

we are nothing and we are everything;
the paper houses in which we live
have been bleached of our words

there are fields of fallen leaves
set aflame by a tempest of longing,
but the wispy thread between us
only pulls us farther apart

and as we fade away,
our hearts are lined
with red spider lilies.


originally published in THE TEACUP TRAIL in july 2014.


for a lack of love

it’s always love that conquers the villain,
love that transforms the stoical robot.
are aromantics the antagonists, then,
of a story that’s so obsessed with ‘love’?
why is it affection that completes us?
why is romance the end goal?
whatever happened to rest of emotions
that define who we are as people?
i am sick of this tirade
against the lack of love.
go ahead and cling to the red thread
that you so firmly believe connects you
to your soul mate.
go ahead and express your passion
in endless pages of senseless poetry,
and weep of broken hearts
and crooked stitches,
but please don’t dehumanize me;
i am not any less of a person
just because i don’t want to be
in a romantic relationship.
let me embrace this lack of love
in peace.

on romance

i don’t believe in insta-love.

falling in love with someone simply because of their appearance just doesn’t cut it for me. i believe in aesthetic attraction – i’m aesthetically attracted to friends and even strangers sometimes, with nothing past that. i also think that it’s a person’s appearance that attracts you, but their personality that convinces you to stay. that sounds much more reasonable (and much better) than falling in love with some jerk because s/he is physically attractive and/or charming.

same with love triangles. they appear in books, movies, anime, manga – everywhere, really.


what makes them so popular?

they always irritate me. if alice really loved bob, then she wouldn’t fall for charlie. even if he tempted her, she would stay with bob, wouldn’t she? so that she could avoid causing him pain and heartbreak. there’s been a rising trend in the shoujo heroine falling for the handsome douche bag, too, while abandoning the male best/childhood friend. even if that best friend is intelligent, hardworking, caring, and loyal.

maybe that’s just prevalent in manga.

on a less frustrating note, i prefer more subtle or sadder romance over the full-blown, cheesy, lovey dovey kind. i’m sure that the latter would be wonderful (and maybe a bit unrealistic) in real life, but i feel uncomfortable reading that sort of romance. i’d rather read about implied love – love that isn’t thrown into the reader’s face, but rather expressed through small, seemingly trivial actions. or unrequited love. hidden heart ache. two people realize that they’re in love with each other, but it’s too late. or, on the supernatural side, two people finally confess their feelings for each other, and briefly enjoy their time together before one of them loses the other forever.

yuki midorikawa is a master at expressing subtle love.

at the same time, she apparently hates drawing in the shoujo genre?

i don’t know how i feel about that.