Taylor Fang is a Chinese-American second-generation high school student living in Utah.

Taylor Fang


Breathe through the skin, tips on your fingers on the keys breathe up the blue disappointment. Swing burnt toes over the dock, watch your life flow by through the eyes of another, fading; flex burnt fingers, feel everything moving through you, around you, an ocean of emotions you will never be able to recall exactly, every memory dulled, every emotion a single tentacle, sparkling. A sea of jellyfish. Flickering poisonous lights surround the pier, glowing everywhere, only a single step away, hypnotized, mesmerized. Dip your toes only barely, again, just enough to sizzle, smoke curling through the labyrinth inside your head. The waves are crashing upon you, you just don't know it yet, cross your ankles anyways and promise forever, reach down and let the bricks scrape your palms deform the lines of your fate of your future carpet burns and slivers from the boardwalk on your fingertips. The stars will shatter someday too pluck blooming flowers through the crevices before it’s too late, they leave so soon. Let your tears drift through the light air, drift away into the blue, towards a better life, a better era, they’re only jellyfish, only feelings, nothing to be afraid. Fall in.

I wanted to communicate the idea of possibility — the fragile beauty of risk and regret. Every emotion is multifaceted, as is every individual. There are so many complications behind a face, lonely tangles of memory within every moment.

Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.