At Midnight, The Bell Rang

​I think what I feel, right now,
Is the quiet reverberation of words,
As they echo
Ricocheting off the walls.

The mug on the other side of the table,
Still empty.
But it stays there
To simulate the end of a conversation.

Words keep coming back.
They chase tunnels after tunnels
They are trains on the tip of my tongue
Like medicine before it is swallowed.

“Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.”
I know that now,
So come back to me.
The silence just keeps getting louder.

The other side of the table,
Still empty.
Like the other side of the bed,
To gather dust and lost words.

Trains keep following me.
The tunnel doesn’t ever end.
The words are not like medicine.
At least medicine takes away some pain.

I think what I feel, right now,
Is mercy from you,
As you walked away I noticed an echo of your vanishing ghost,
Ricocheting off the walls.

You flew away that night,
Like you said you would.
I just wish we had more time
I wish we had more

A Pocket Full of Kueh

Pictured above: My Father, who kept loving me when I forgot to love him.

Performed at the Foodrama Poetry Slam 2017, Organised by Word Forward, at Blu Jaz Cafè.

My dad never understood why I hated eating kueh. I spent 7 years forcing kuehs down my throat, long since learning that resistance was futile.

I used to run to my dad for a hug the moment he got home. My dad called me a little “Tau sah piah”, because those were my favourite words for a while.

I wonder what happened to those years. I haven’t eaten kueh in a long time.

Continue reading “A Pocket Full of Kueh”