Before I leave I want to leave a part of myself... The keys to my first car My flip phone, its pixelated proof of my adolescence The first and last poem I'd ever write To show how far I'd come And how much I had left to give But I fear my children won't have the language to receive If they're anything Like me When she had passed I had lost all the gifts she gave in life The rainbow bracelets I cut from my wrists The Buddha I tossed down a tub drain when classmates mocked the ways she survived Now, my clearest memories are all the times I wished I tried The broken Chinese I was too embarrassed to speak The nervous smile and headnod I left in its absence How I'm still forging a flashback to feel more alive than Aching