for Cheng, George, Weihan, Katherine, Veronica, Christopher
The walls of our home have turned to glass
because the world wants to watch us cry.
Our mistakes and regrets are written with
the blood on their hands and
we desperately try to
wash them out with our tears.
College degrees hung at crooked angles read:
"University of California, Santa Barbara" shootings
Google Images replaced our pictures of beaches with
pictures of a terrorist &
We fling open windows to air out the last of the tear gas
only to slam them shut to
keep out the camera crews who
harass us because
The world wants to watch us cry
but this glass is strong
you can’t tell if they’re cries of
We look like we’re screaming.
Sometimes it’s singing
one look in our eyes and you can tell we’re just masking
the fact that 2AM bagels will make us suddenly sadder
that chicken shawarma sandwiches will taste vaguely of gunpowder
that we can’t get slurpees in Cherry anymore
IV means 4.
but everything’s backwards now and
VI means 6
Our hearts bleed Blue & Gold for the six holes in our home
We fill the bullet holes in the glass with flowers.
We light our candles in the night
soon it’ll be mourning.
The rising sun will bring 8 page papers, projects, exams
but it hasn’t risen yet.
So we’ll just sit in the dark, candles in hand
with our deadlines and finals and heartbreak and strength
written by my great friend, Stefan.