漢譯；佩英（Translated by Christine Chen） <h5 align="center"><b>紐約【綜合新聞】840期</b><br>主編：佩英<br>總顧問(wèn)：馬華勝<br>總編：程朗</h5> <h5>阿西高·昂澤姆（Asigau Onzem）來(lái)自巴布亞新幾內(nèi)亞米爾恩灣省拉達(dá)瓦，詩(shī)人兼創(chuàng)作者。自2020年起寫詩(shī)，作品關(guān)注社會(huì)議題、自我價(jià)值、自然與不公，也描繪生活的靜謐。他以寫作為力量，直面沉默與痛苦，愿讀者因文字而被看見與鼓舞。</h5> <b>成真一刻</b><br><div><br></div>無(wú)人教你如何存在，<br>生命只是彎曲、扭轉(zhuǎn)，繼而輕輕旋舞。<br>鏡子以謎語(yǔ)低語(yǔ)，卻無(wú)人能懂，<br>它的表面，掩藏著卷發(fā)下的真相。<br>一兩年間，<br>瞬息已變，不可重溫。<br>喧囂被靜默替代，<br>寂靜在云下久久盤桓。<br>我已活過(guò)，還是仍在活著？<br>人們說(shuō)，信念便是證明。<br>我在空氣中搜尋，真理卻從未降落，<br>只用一只不穩(wěn)的手，緊抓希望。<br>喧嘩褪去，我心仍辯駁：<br>什么值得承受，什么化作命運(yùn)。<br>我屏住呼吸，傾聽柔軟的寂靜，<br>在起落之間，找到自己。<br>掙扎是真實(shí)的——痛苦與收獲。<br>其樂(lè)聲流淌在我的肌肉與血管。<br>生命只是彎曲、扭轉(zhuǎn)，繼而輕輕旋舞，<br>然而恩典終會(huì)在紛亂之間找到歸宿。<br>命運(yùn)未明，裹著螺母與螺栓，<br>常使我眼中滿是久經(jīng)時(shí)光的鹽水。<br>是的，無(wú)人教你如何存在，<br>只留下一地破碎的“成為”。<br>在這宏大的競(jìng)逐中，悔恨顯得渺小，<br>時(shí)鐘計(jì)時(shí)，卻鮮少顯露面孔。<br>我追逐消逝之物，學(xué)會(huì)守護(hù)留下的，<br>將覓得的真理種植在時(shí)間順從的土壤中。<br>前方，是曲折的路。<br>步伐踉蹌，然心志已播。<br>我標(biāo)記每一次轉(zhuǎn)彎，時(shí)間開始描摹，<br>這是我的行走——我的步伐，我的競(jìng)逐。<br>鏡子以謎語(yǔ)低語(yǔ)，卻無(wú)人能懂，<br>而真相藏在內(nèi)心的懇求中。<br>起點(diǎn)定義并鋪就終點(diǎn)，<br>每一道裂縫，都是我守護(hù)的選擇。<br>無(wú)人教你如何存在——的確如此。<br>正如你需要黑暗，才能看見光。<br>正如在寂靜中，你發(fā)現(xiàn)了自己的吶喊。<br>從彼時(shí)到此刻——你終于，成為了你自己。 <h5><b>The Moment of Becoming</b></h5><h5><br>No one prepares you on how to be<br>Life simply bends and twists then gently swirls<br>The mirror speaks in riddles no one sees<br>Its surface hides the truth beneath soft curls<br>A year or two from now to then<br>Moments change never to be lived again <br>The hush replaces voices once so loud<br>There silence lingers underneath the cloud<br>Have I lived or am I still living<br>The proof, they say, is found in just believing<br>I search the air for truths that never land<br>Grasping hope with just one uncertain hand<br>The noise recedes, but still my heart debates<br>What’s worth the weight, and what dissolves as fates<br>I hold my breath where silence softly calls<br>And find myself beyond the rise and falls<br>The struggle is real the pain - the gains<br>Its music flows in my muscles and veins<br>Life simply bends and twists then gently swirls<br>Still grace will find a place between the whirls<br>An untelling fate wrapped with nuts and bolts<br>That often leave my eyes in seasoned salts<br>Yes, no one prepares you on how to be<br>Just fragments of becoming left to me<br>Regrets are petty in this grand race<br>The clock keeps time but rarely shows its face<br>I chase what fades, then learn to hold what stays<br>Planting my found truths in soil that time obeys<br>Ahead I am aware of a tangled road<br>My steps uncertain, yet my purpose sowed<br>I mark the bends and time begins to trace<br>This is my walk—my pace, my race<br>The mirror speaks in riddles no one sees <br>Decode the truths from inner pleas<br>My start defines and paves my end<br>Every crack, a choice I will defend<br>No one prepares you on how to be—that is true<br>Like needing the darkness to see your light<br>Like in the stillness of silence you find your roar<br>And from then to now, you have finally become</h5> <div><b>時(shí)光之沙</b></div><div><br></div>當(dāng)我們開始時(shí)，并未看見終點(diǎn)——<br>笑聲太響，<br>手離得太近，<br>心太敞開，易碎。<br>時(shí)間最初輕輕流淌，<br>在交會(huì)的目光里，<br>在口袋里珍藏的言語(yǔ)里，<br>在彼此相知的安然里。<br>我們建起小小的世界——<br>心照不宣的玩笑，<br>無(wú)聲的承諾，<br>片刻交織，如同肌膚縫合。<br>然而緩慢的瓦解，總是<br>靜靜開始——<br>一個(gè)被遺忘的電話，<br>一瞥漸淡的目光，<br>一扇緩緩合上的門。<br>距離像苔蘚般滋生，<br>緩慢而青綠，<br>覆蓋曾經(jīng)<br>如日光下的金輝般閃耀的東西。<br>你說(shuō)得更少，<br>我聽得更少。<br>空氣因我們未曾說(shuō)出口的話而凝重，<br>因我們找不到修復(fù)的語(yǔ)言而沉默。<br>某一天，<br>毫無(wú)預(yù)兆，<br>你的聲音成了我?guī)缀跤洸黄鸬穆曧憽?lt;br>你的臉龐邊緣漸漸模糊。<br>我緊抓住零散的片段——<br>一次觸碰，<br>一首歌，<br>你曾叫我名字時(shí)，那份意義。<br>然而記憶滑溜——<br>它褪色，它變形，<br>它只留下鬼影，<br>在人們?cè)?jīng)站立的地方。<br>而世間最悲傷的事，<br>莫過(guò)于——<br>那個(gè)曾給予你記憶的人，<br>最終自己<br>也只剩下記憶。 <h5><div><b>Sands of Time</b></div><div><b><br></b></div>We don’t see the ending when we begin—<br>laughter too loud,<br>hands too close,<br>hearts too open to break.<br>Time moves softly at first,<br>in shared glances,<br>in words kept in pockets,<br>in the easy knowing of being known.<br>We build little worlds—<br>inside jokes,<br>silent promises,<br>moments stitched together like skin.<br>But the slow undoing always starts<br>quiet—<br>a forgotten call,<br>a fading glance,<br>a closing door.<br>Distance grows like moss,<br>slow and green,<br>covering what once<br>shone like gold in the sun.<br>You speak less.<br>I hear less.<br>The air thickens with all we don’t say,<br>all we can’t find the words to fix.<br>One day,<br>without warning,<br>your voice is a sound I barely remember.<br>Your face blurs at the edges.<br>I hold onto fragments—<br>a touch,<br>a song,<br>the way you once said my name like it mattered.<br>But memory is slippery—<br>it fades, it shifts,<br>it leaves behind ghosts<br>where people used to stand.<br>And the saddest thing in the world<br>is when the one who gave you memories<br>becomes nothing more<br>than a memory themselves.<br></h5> <b>存在</b><br><br>在淤青與繭之間，<br>你會(huì)找到我——<br>在改變、在覺知、<br>學(xué)著如何隱藏。<br>在漫長(zhǎng)的容忍嘆息與殘余的平靜之間，<br>我在收集碎片，<br>將自己重新縫合。<br>智慧緩緩醞釀，<br>在靜默之處，<br>未曾言說(shuō)，未曾顯露，<br>小心翼翼地掌握。<br>我在無(wú)人注視的地方療愈，<br>原諒那些太沉重?zé)o法承受的，<br>重新去愛我曾以為失去的，<br>不再憎恨鏡中的面容。<br>我用破碎筑橋，<br>跨越傷疤，<br>鋪下石塊，<br>為那些曾離去的人留下路。<br>苦與甜并存，<br>我嘗盡兩者——<br>疼痛與柔軟，<br>刺痛與慰藉。<br>這并不容易。<br>藥丸卡喉，<br>吞咽艱難——<br>我仍然服下。<br>在破碎與修復(fù)之間，<br>柔軟開始萌生——<br>一口呼吸，一道裂隙，<br>一絲“成為”。<br>我仍在學(xué)習(xí)如何停留，<br>如何承載一切而不崩塌，<br>如何背負(fù)重量而不被埋沒。<br>在傷痛與希望之間，<br>我存在。<br>不全然完整，也未消逝——<br>但仍在這里。<br> <h5><b>Being</b></h5><h5><br>Somewhere between the bruises and the callouses,<br>you’ll find me—<br>changing, knowing,<br>learning how to hide.<br>Somewhere between the long sighs of tolerance<br>and the sifted remains of peace,<br>I’m gathering pieces,<br>threading myself back together.<br>Wisdom brews slow,<br>in quiet places,<br>untold, unseen,<br>held with careful hands.<br>I’m healing where no one looks,<br>forgiving what’s too heavy to hold,<br>reloving what I thought was lost,<br>unhating the face in the mirror.<br>I’m building bridges out of broken things,<br>crossing over scars,<br>laying stones<br>where others walked away.<br>The bitter sits with the sweet,<br>I taste them both—<br>the ache and the softness,<br>the sting and the balm.<br>It isn’t easy.<br>The pill catches,<br>the swallow sticks—<br>I take it anyway.<br>In the middle of breaking and mending,<br>something soft begins—<br>a breath, a crack,<br>a sliver of becoming.<br>I’m still learning how to stay,<br>how to carry it all without folding,<br>how to wear the weight<br>without letting it bury me.<br>Somewhere there, between hurt and hope,<br>I am.<br>Not quite whole, not quite gone—<br>but still here.<br></h5> <div><b>我內(nèi)心的庇護(hù)所</b></div><div><br></div>我是陌生人，行走在異鄉(xiāng)——<br>每一次呼吸，帶鹽，生澀，幾近被禁止。<br>我的骨骼越過(guò)邊界，卻無(wú)權(quán)停留，<br>孤獨(dú)如難民，在肌膚里，在陌生的夜里漂泊。<br>我是誰(shuí)？我將成為什么？<br>名字在記憶中無(wú)聲。<br>借來(lái)的呼吸，借來(lái)的恩典，<br>我仍是虛影，學(xué)著尋找歸屬。<br>我的嘆息被計(jì)數(shù)，被歲月囚禁，<br>求自由的呼喊，在警戒的耳邊落空。<br>這是我想成為的自己?jiǎn)幔?lt;br>還是因恐懼而被淺嘗輒止的夢(mèng)？<br>我是陌生人，在更陌生的軀殼里，<br>錯(cuò)位，流離，無(wú)人可訴。<br>我是否已擺脫所有逃避？<br>還是被迫在自我間徘徊？<br>我是陌生人，行走在異鄉(xiāng)——<br>只渴望屬于，渴望理解。<br>但邊界模糊了曾熟悉的聲音，<br>希望顯得遙遠(yuǎn)、破碎，而我，只是……路過(guò)。 <h5><b>The Asylum in Me</b></h5><h5><br>I am a stranger, in a walking foreign land— <br>Each breath - salted, raw, and close to banned. <br>My bones are borders crossed without a right, <br>A refugee alone in skin and an alienated night.<br>Who am I to be what becomes of me? <br>A name unspoken in my memory. <br>With borrowed breath and borrowed grace, <br>A figment still learning how to find its place.<br>My sighs are counted, jailed in passing years <br>Pleas to be free fall deaf on guarded ears <br>Is this the version of me I want to be? <br>Or just a skimmed dream withheld too fearfully<br>I am a stranger, in an even stranger shell <br>Misplaced, displaced with no one left to tell <br>Am I free from all I flee from still? <br>Or circling through myself against my will?<br>I am a stranger, in a walking foreign land— <br>Wanting only to belong, to understand<br>But borders blur the voices I once knew <br>And hope feels distant, fractured, and I'm just ... passing through<br></h5> <p class="ql-block"><b>詩(shī)歌賞析：</b></p><p class="ql-block">阿西高·昂澤姆的四首詩(shī)——《成真一刻》《時(shí)光之沙》《存在》《我內(nèi)心的庇護(hù)所》——探討了自我、記憶與歸屬的脆弱而多變的心理景觀。它們描繪了從身份的展開，到關(guān)系的失落，再到自我修復(fù)與內(nèi)在庇護(hù)的追尋。詩(shī)中語(yǔ)言充滿身體感與時(shí)間感的意象，展現(xiàn)了破碎、韌性與靜默的堅(jiān)持。詩(shī)篇在內(nèi)省與抒情敘事之間徘徊，將內(nèi)心世界呈現(xiàn)為戰(zhàn)場(chǎng)亦是避難所。脆弱與勇氣交織，昂澤姆在詩(shī)中冥想存在、承受與行進(jìn)的不確定道路，呈現(xiàn)出對(duì)人類脆弱與堅(jiān)韌的溫柔而不妥協(xié)的反思。（佩英）</p><p class="ql-block"><b>Editorials:</b></p><p class="ql-block">Asigau Onzem’s four poems—The Moment of Becoming, Sands of Time, Being, and The Asylum in Me—explore the fragile, shifting landscapes of selfhood, memory, and belonging. They move from the unfolding of identity to relational loss, self-repair, and the search for sanctuary within. Language pulses with corporeal and temporal imagery, capturing fracture, resilience, and quiet endurance. The poems linger between introspection and lyric narrative, rendering inner life as both battleground and refuge. Vulnerability and courage coexist, as Onzem meditates on becoming, sustaining, and navigating the uncertain terrain of existence, offering readers a tender yet unflinching reflection on human fragility and persistence.(By Christine Chen)</p> <h5>阿娜塞妮·拉索瓦卡·塔卡(Anaseini Rasowaqa Taka)</h5><h5>斐濟(jì)詩(shī)人、學(xué)校圖書管理員。任職于學(xué)校圖書館，致力于學(xué)生信息與閱讀推廣。擔(dān)任Selfless-Fiji秘書及“聲音”寫作平臺(tái)負(fù)責(zé)人，活躍于法國(guó)、印尼使館等舞臺(tái)及詩(shī)歌朗誦會(huì)?，F(xiàn)與亞洲基金會(huì)合作新書，并為斐濟(jì)藝術(shù)理事會(huì)旗下VAVA理事。</h5> <b>鈴鈴</b><br><br>鈴鈴——<br>手機(jī)響起，<br>“你好，求助熱線?！?lt;br>有人接起電話。<br>“我……呃……我……”<br>我的大腦這樣結(jié)結(jié)巴巴地說(shuō)。<br>哎呀，<br>我按下了掛斷鍵，<br>一滑，電話消失。<br>鈴鈴——<br>它又響了。<br>我的心，<br>再次不規(guī)律地跳動(dòng)。<br>這一次，我能做到嗎？<br>我能否終于說(shuō)出口？<br>鈴鈴——<br>它在房間里回蕩。<br>“你好！求助熱……”<br>話音還未落，線路斷了。<br>一次又一次——<br>第二次已經(jīng)夠了吧？<br>我想。<br>夠了，<br>我告訴自己。<br>我努力過(guò)，<br>是的，我真的努力過(guò)。<br>唉，<br>這需要時(shí)間。<br>鈴鈴——<br>第三次。<br>鈴鈴——<br>我的心開始狂跳。<br>鈴鈴——<br>心里卻希望<br>沒人接聽。<br>鈴鈴——<br>“你好！求助熱……”<br>我再次掛斷。<br>放下手機(jī)，<br>淚眼婆娑，<br>心里想——<br>我能否熬得過(guò)去？<br>喉嚨的干澀，<br>胸口的沉重，<br>難以忍受。<br>誰(shuí)能忍受？<br>我最后看了手機(jī)一眼，<br>拭去淚水，<br>關(guān)掉了燈。<br>側(cè)身躺下，<br>哭到思緒麻木，<br>直到大腦再也承受不住。<br>而那——<br>并不是一個(gè)<br>“晚安”。 <h5><b>Ring Ring</b><br><br>Ring Ring<br>Goes my phone<br>Hello helpline<br>Answered the call<br>I uuhmm<br>I uuhhmmmmm<br>I...<br>Says my brain<br>Oooppps<br>Pressed the end line<br>I swiped away<br>Ring ring<br>It goes again<br>My heart beating<br>Abnormally again<br>Will I do it this time<br>Will I finnally open up<br>Ring ring<br>It echoes in the room now<br>Hello!Helpline<br>Than the line dies<br>One more time<br>Two time is enough<br>I thought to myself<br>I feel like it's enough<br>I say to myself<br>I tried<br>I did<br>Oh bother<br>This will take awhile<br>Ring ring<br>For the third time<br>Ring ring<br>My heart begins to rise<br>Ring ring<br>Hoping no one<br>would answer the line<br>Ring ring<br>Hello!Helpli. . .<br>I end the line<br>I put my phone down<br>With teary eyes<br>Thinking to myself<br>Would I ever survive<br>The dryness of my throat<br>The heaviness of my chest<br>Unbearable<br>Who can bare them<br>I looked at my phone<br>One last time<br>Wiped my tears off<br>And turned of the light<br>I turned on my side<br>And began to cry<br>Till my mind has had enough<br>And that<br>Was not a Goodnight<br><br></h5> <b>破碎的滴答</b><br><br>心臟——<br>那最柔軟的部分。<br>怎能有人<br>笑著說(shuō)：<br>“我要把它弄碎”，<br>然后轉(zhuǎn)身離去。<br>那條輸送血液的脈管，<br>那承載情感的血管，<br>如今被撕裂。<br>嘖嘖嘖，<br>只散發(fā)著<br>悲傷的氣息。<br>它的形狀——<br>已然扭曲。<br>笑容，<br>還能誕生嗎？<br>從一顆<br>斜斜歪歪的心里。<br>讓我們用膠帶粘起，<br>看看能否固定，<br>還是<br>早已松散？<br>從未被聆聽，<br>卻總受折磨。<br>一顆心，<br>還能活到百歲嗎？<br>若它訴說(shuō)的，<br>只是長(zhǎng)久的<br>不快樂(lè)。<br>我們?cè)撊ネ翁帲?lt;br>為一顆心療傷？<br>那仍在泵動(dòng)血液的心。<br>而我的血型——<br>此刻已無(wú)用。<br>我只能笑著問(wèn)：<br>可有人<br>能治愈我嗎？ <h5><b>Broken Tick</b><br><br>The Heart<br>the softest of parts<br>how can someone<br>laugh and say<br>Im breaking it<br>and runs<br><br>the vein that pumps the blood<br>the vessel that carries<br>our emotions<br>all torn apart<br>tsk tsk tsk<br>it reaks of<br>sadness now<br><br>It’s shape<br>Deformed now<br>Can a smile<br>Be born<br>From a<br>Crooked heart<br>Let’s tape it up<br>And see<br>If it sticks<br>Or is it loose Now<br><br>Never heard<br>Always tormented<br>Can a heart<br>Live to a hundred<br>If it speaks of<br>Unhappiness<br>Foe a while now<br><br>Where can we go<br>And heal a heart<br>That pumps of blood<br>My Blood type<br>Is of no use now<br>I’ll just smile<br>And ask<br>Can anyone<br>Heal me up<br></h5> <b>我的大腦</b><br><br>呃啊——<br>你們聽見了嗎？<br>我腦海里的對(duì)話，<br>嘈雜到回蕩，<br>卻又空洞得發(fā)涼。<br>黑暗中，<br>念頭徘徊，<br>宛如魔鬼。<br>我戰(zhàn)栗，<br>荊棘般的思緒<br>刺痛我的心，<br>裂成兩半。<br>這些聲音令我麻木，<br>這撲面而來(lái)的念頭<br>我卻無(wú)法觸碰。<br>等等，<br>更糟的還在后面。<br>焦慮與抑郁——<br>你是否聽說(shuō)過(guò)<br>這兩個(gè)詞？<br>坦白講，<br>它們主宰著我的世界。<br>我的大腦竟開始相信：<br>擁有它們就是救贖。<br>可救我于誰(shuí)？<br>救我于何？<br>它們所做的一切，<br>只是將我的愛<br>化為塵埃。<br>我的心智<br>還想要什么？<br>滿足于何？<br>如果我能按下暫停鍵，<br>我會(huì)帶著微笑<br>欣然去做。<br>可這并不容易，<br>要屏蔽一切<br>只專注于自己。<br>因?yàn)槲以囘^(guò)，一次次試過(guò)，<br>卻一次次失敗。<br>我總是蜷縮進(jìn)被窩，<br>蜷成一團(tuán)，<br>無(wú)聲地哭泣。<br>就是這樣——<br>越沉重的言語(yǔ)<br>涌入我的腦海，<br>我的身體與靈魂<br>便像船一樣沉沒。<br>心若受傷，<br>一切皆崩塌。<br>我希望你能理解：<br>我的大腦，<br>對(duì)所有人都是陌生的。<br>如果你和我一樣，<br>請(qǐng)聽我說(shuō)——<br>你并不孤單。<br>因?yàn)?，嘿—?lt;br>也許這只是<br>注意力缺陷多動(dòng)癥吧。<br>我想。 <h5><b>MY MIND</b><br><br>Urrgggghhh<br>Can you all hear that<br>The conversation in my head<br>So loud it echoes<br>So empty it feels<br>So dark<br>thoughts lingers<br>Like the devil<br>I shivered<br>So thorny<br>It pierced my heart<br>In to two<br>These voices makes me numb<br>This overwhelming thoughts<br>That I can't touch<br>But wait<br>It gets worse<br>Anxiety and depression<br>Have you ever<br>Heard of those two words<br>Well to be honest<br>They do rule my world <br>My mind has come to an understanding<br>That having these two would save me<br>Save me from who<br>Save me from what<br>All it ever does<br>Is turning my love into dust<br>What more do my mind want<br>A satisfaction of what<br>If I could pause my mind for awhile<br>I would gladly do so with a smile<br>But it's not easy you see<br>Blocking everything out<br>And focus on me<br>Coz I've tried and I've tried<br>And I had failed so many times<br>I always crawl up to bed<br>Balled up in a corner<br>I would silently cry<br>It's like this you see<br>The heavier the words<br>My mind receive<br>My body and my soul<br>Sinks like a ship<br>If one is affected<br>Than all must fall<br>I hope you get an understanding<br>That my mind<br>is a stranger to all<br>If you're like me<br>Then hear this<br>You're not alone<br>Coz hey<br>It's just ADHD<br>I THINK<br></h5> <h5><div><b>詩(shī)歌賞析：</b></div><div>阿娜塞妮·拉索瓦卡·塔卡(Anaseini Rasowaqa Taka)這三首詩(shī)《鈴鈴 Ring Ring》《破碎的滴答 Broken Tick》《我的大腦 My Mind》形成了一個(gè)完整的心理困境與自我掙扎三部曲。它們共同聚焦于抑郁、焦慮與孤獨(dú)的精神體驗(yàn)，但表現(xiàn)方式各具側(cè)重，既有直白的自述，也有隱喻的描摹。三首詩(shī)從行動(dòng)困境（求助熱線）→ 情感撕裂（心臟意象）→ 思維囚籠（大腦自白），構(gòu)成了一個(gè)逐步深入的心理圖景。它們的語(yǔ)言直白、情緒濃烈，善用重復(fù)（“鈴鈴”“嘖嘖嘖”“呃啊”）和身體意象（心臟、大腦、胸口）來(lái)傳達(dá)抑郁癥患者的痛苦與掙扎。整體而言，這三首詩(shī)不僅具有自我袒露的勇氣，也兼具呼喊的力量，是一組既私人又公共的心理詩(shī)歌文本，能夠引發(fā)廣泛共鳴。（佩英）</div><div><b>Editorials：</b></div><div>Anaseini Rasowaqa Taka’s Ring Ring, Broken Tick, and My Mind form a triptych exploring psychological struggle and inner conflict. Focusing on depression, anxiety, and loneliness, the poems progress from action paralysis (the unanswered hotline), to emotional rupture (the heart as torn image), to the prison of thought (the brain’s self-address), creating a layered psychological landscape. The language is immediate and emotionally charged, employing repetition (“ring ring,” “tsk tsk tsk,” “uhh”) and corporeal imagery (heart, brain, chest) to convey the intensity of mental distress. The first poem dramatizes the tension between seeking help and fear of exposure; the second transforms the heart into a symbol of emotional fragmentation; the third offers introspective monologue and fragile hope. Collectively, the poems combine candid self-revelation with a forceful expressive voice, producing a body of work that is both intimate and socially resonant, inviting readers to engage empathetically with mental health experiences.（By Christine Chen）</div></h5>