I’ve been too obsessed on posting poetry and photography simultaneously, instead of posting poems that I’m proud of having written. So I’m going to stop being so uptight about my format from now on.
Enjoy the poem!
It’s no one’s fault
But sometimes I am feathering along the hips of a lover
Whose love will dissolve in spit by morning.
Sometimes I crave touch that must be paid for first
In the form of climaxes.
There are better ways to gain affection
There are healthier ways to be loved
Like alcoholism, because you never drink alone
Like drugs, because your doctor will always prescribe xanax
Like insomnia, because there is always someone in Texas who’s awake enough to hold a conversation with you.
Continue reading “Musings of a Slut”
This piece is two poems in one, starting with 4-Act Tragedy, followed by Requiem for a Fuck Buddy.
Performed at Blu Jaz Cafè for the Hit Refresh Poetry Slam, organized by Word Forward. Performance found here.
Continue reading “4-Act Tragedy | Requiem for a Fuck Buddy”
Tonight you will walk home hand-in-hand with Kentucky Fried Nonsense instead of me.
You will hold yourself close and wish I was there with home-cooked clarity
And Kentucky Fried Nonsense will be the first meal you’ve had in two days.
Continue reading “Recipe For Clarity”
Performed at the Blue Man Poetry Slam, performance here
I have been swimming in an ocean of exhaustion
Fatigue has set it at last and I blame depression.
So I signed up for a slam
But I hadn’t written anything relevant to the slam
So I’d just list things that are blue.
Continue reading “The Blue Slam Bam”
Pictured: My Ball-Jointed doll, Mindy.
Submitted on Day 26 of #SingPoWriMo2017
She shimmered under the moonlight, your fingertips brushed over her rivers and valleys, the dip and rise of her mountains, forests and hills. And you breathed hot air on her neck, straining yourself to fit your hands around all of her, trying to hold everything you wanted closer.
I like to think that she had died in your arms. It’s comforting, in a way, to know that she had disappeared together with my memory of you. I’d like to think of her self-destruction as the moment you took her into your arms.
Continue reading “Dead To Me”
– Performed at the Mad Bad Sad Glad Love Poetry Slam, organised by Word Forward Singapore. My performance can be found on YouTube here.
Last night I deleted his number from my phone. I erased all traces of his existence from my gallery, cleaned out the remnants of memory still stuck between other relevant memories, like left over food caught in teeth.
Continue reading “Ghost Town”
Picture was taken from the inside of his house
I remember the bed shaking, trembling with the sounds of a fight. I remember how the walls exploded, my fists bleeding from having been clenched too tight. I held back, my tongue a blunt knife awaiting the sharpening stone.
Continue reading “From His Perspective – Broken”