I wish I had known to follow the flight of the Kingfisher,

In his mouth resembling the taro in this woven basket I carry, he cradles his dinner in his mouth looking to perch on a branch,

So he can finally digest the catch of the day.

The herons glare at a distance, stalking in curiosity, behind coconut trees, as still as statues, almost as if at a single step the Pacific would dry up into a desert;

the palms turning into cacti with thorns as unforgiving as the current that pulls the tide.

This King, ruler of the sea and skies, as majestic as the eagle, his wings ablue, reflecting the ocean inside me, I wish I had taken his flight.

I wish I could be a king.


I woke up today and immediately, tears ran down my cheeks.
Another day, another day alive.
Another year on this godforsaken planet, wandering and lost.

I survived another year, and everyone around me celebrating another year
of life, of opportunities, and it just seems like I’m just drowning in everyone
else’s success, in everyone else’s rewards and I’m happy for them.

I’m not comparing or jealous, you see, I just wish I knew why I’m here. …


I’m lost, love.

I try so hard and I do everything I can, love.

It doesn’t seem enough and you push me away.

Like every time I feel closer and just when I thought I’ve come ashore in your mind,

I’m swept away.

Let me dock upon the pier of your heart.

Let me rest upon your shallow channel, love.

I know the tides are high and your guard is up.

I am no stranger to piracy, but it is not in my intentions to set sail again.

I’ve found the treasure to be you, love.


I wrote myself a song today

I don’t quite remember the melody or

The words, but the song comes to me in

My chest, humming in my veins, moving

My arms to wrap around my hips to sway

In motion, in dance, in nervous taps

My legs constantly restless, anxious.

This song so sad and melancholy like

A minor chord, carrying the tune of

My life, no progressions or reprise,

Just one note over an impatient metronome

Catching up to me

Off beat


How is being with me not honoring you?

When everything I want for you to be is everything that’s you?

Maybe I’m taking too much of you.

All I ask of you is to be with me. I keep feeling like I’m asking for so much, like maybe I’m asking for the world to end just for us to be together. …


I love that when I first saw her it was my soul finally reaching it’s last lifetime.

As soon as my lips touched hers in perfect harmony, I knew I never had to search again.

I love how her hair curls like grapevines of gold; free and as soft as the glow of the last hour before sunset.

I love the roar of her laugh, echoing in my ears, full of life and adventure, awakening my inner child.

The way the sun kisses her skin and how her eyes mirror the ocean reminding me of home.

I love

How every…


That I Fell In Love With

I wrote you a letter. I’ve been struggling looking for the right words and sentences and synonyms to best describe how lost I am.

Not because I’m without you, but because I’ve realized that I’m doing better now that you’re gone and I’m putting myself first. I’m sorry.

I really hope you’re happier too.

These paragraphs are disappearing on the pages I’m filling, writing to you. I’m trying to find the right draft and just finally mail it. Then last minute I got cold feet and just ripped the letter.

At first, I was going to just disappear, out of…


You left today and I’ve probably closed and opened our last conversation a million times.

I’ve dialed your number enough times that when I close my eyes, I see them floating on my eyelids so perfectly.

My heart feels like a buoy at sea, rocking back and forth as each wave of memories in my mind flood inside me.

I grab my chest each time because it gets hard to breathe and I find myself almost drowning from my tears and yet, none fall.

Strangely, my eyes have dried and I’ve run out of tears to cry over you. That…


Tell me that you’ve grown out of the thought of us, and you’ve finally fallen in love with yourself and let go of me; that you moved on from the immature notion that we’ll be together someday.

Tell me that you’ve found someone new,
And you’ve finally started going on shitty dates, having small talk about what your favorite color is, and how many siblings you have.

Tell me that you don’t want to see me again, that you hate my new girlfriend and that you’re better off without me.

Because it’s true.

Clearly we aren’t meant to be and…


I found closure as I drove around town,

Looking for something familiar and nostalgic.

I was welcomed by reminders of how I’ve aged and how I’ve become a stranger to what I used to call home.

Met by glaring eyes and perched necks almost breaking with curiosity, following my every awkward step along old stomping grounds, I realized how the distance wasn’t just physical anymore.

I don’t belong here. Home was never a place for me and now, it isn’t a person either.

Ezra of All Trades

Palauan in diaspora with a passion for art, writing, and cups of tea on rainy days.

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