My parents keep my baby photos in countless envelopes. Inside big cardboard boxes and plastic storage containers, they are stored away in the walk-in closet.

When baba cooks, he always slices the fatty parts off of the meat

I own five copies of Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief. 

When I was twelve, I had my first real taste of failure.

An introspective tribute to Alanis Morissette’s musical masterpiece. 

I wasn’t aware of what “daddy issues” even meant until I began eighth grade.

You consist of my thickened blood and spit.

“I think I want to do theatre. Like, forever. I just think I would be heartbroken if I ever had to stop.” 

These charms are different from the ones I used to wear. For one, the chains don’t match. Neither do their sizes. Neither does the weight they carry.

By Daisy Huang

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