Written January 2016
My dad didn’t know how to do my hair and he liked to dress me in neutral tones. He also preferred to buy my clothes a size or two too big. He made me learn how to play chess and tennis. He enforced thinking strategically and perfection. He wanted me to skip middle school and go straight to university because I tested on university levels in elementary school.
He wanted me to be the best.
He was usually absent & usually abusive.
I feared him, yet I can’t deny that he cared to push me.
I despised his tactics. I have no use for him now and have made peace with the dynamic of our relationship in my own ways. He has no idea where i am now, or what I’m up to. It’s cool that he had some sort of vision of my intelligence and capabilities. He just didn’t know how to support me or love me & still doesn’t know how. It’s all good. I’m sure he’s somewhere with a passport full of stamps. He named me Asia for a reason.
Listen to “saddad.” (recorded summer 2017)
the tone in my voice
the rage in my speech
the emotions you heard
through the words i said as i sat in bed
impatient and triggered by words i read
didn’t stop to breathe
aimed at you from far away
didn’t hear you say please don’t shoot
please excuse my ptsd
it was 2008. i was a college freshman and he wanted a part of me that he had entered before. he was my high school boyfriend but it was done – just wanted to be homies. i refused to share my body with him again and he felt that fighting me would make me submit. we fought. i screamed and chased him with a knife out of my apartment. he recently followed me on IG. i immediately blocked that lowlife scum.
it was 2011. i was 21 and madly in love when my forehead was gashed open by my university boyfriend. i bled continuously until he trusted me enough to keep his secret and tell the lie that my injuries and bruises were from me falling off my bike – i walked to piedmont hospital alone which was ironically across the street from my condo which he had been nesting in. when we broke up, he told his family and friends that it was because i cheated on him – a lie to shame me and hide the truth that he was sick. maybe another reason why i moved overseas. my community had been tainted. i still have the scar from the stitches, faded but present. yet, i stopped keeping his secret in 2016 when i moved to tokyo – the unpaid emergency room bill which had been fucking up my credit for 5 years was finally mailed to his parents home with a letter courtesy of my strong grandmother.
i have many more memories of abuse and assault. it’s fucked up that we can never be truly reconciled for the damage it does and how we must push to undo it. i’m still working through it all, even the seemingly minor transgressions that still happen – just wanna say #metoo. 💗💪🏾
june 2017 ::
i came from your pussy –
first one to come from your pussy.
didn’t it hurt when i came from your pussy?
so helpless, all bloody and squishy
i was screaming and crying.
what a joy ー
you passed me off like a baby doll
and i am not a toy.
you once looked so happy though.
you see, what had happened,
you gave up so quick on ya girl
i’m not sure if you planned it.
i’m not tripping because
goddamn girl you so craaazy
and if i was around you more
i don’t think i’d be this lady.
maybe i’d be famished from no love from you.
my value was the meal.
we made reservations together.
you’re too late.
had a beautiful cry
like i had a blade dragged into me to remove a dormant cancer that was hidden & resting but in great magnitude.
before this cry, i had a productive day.
i laughed and smiled.
i worked on new projects.
i saw people who i admire.
i had endorphins flowing through my body.
i had a cry @6A after a bike ride home during a call home to my grandmother.
it was like blockage was removed and resting pain that existed inside me exited in bulk, in the same vain of my living joy.
i could see myself screaming as babies do when they become aware of the vast world – life replanting me from my comfort zone to one more visibly boundless.
my grandma laughed and said i’m perfect.