– To the first friend. I wonder what you’re doing now, I hope life is treating you well these days. Written for Day 1 of SingPoWriMo 2018, which took place in April. We were challenged to write one poem every day for a month. I completed 23 days.
Each day, a new prompt would be released to help us with the writing process. Here is the prompt this poem is based on:
THE H20 PROMPT by Stephanie Chan
Write a poem about a body of water.
#SEASTARBONUS: Read about its history/geology. How was it built/formed? How old is it? Does this information change how you think about it?
#FISHBONUS: write about the body of water as if it was a person.
#LETTERINABOTTLEBONUS: the poem is addressed to the body of water.
#PARTOFYOURWORLDBONUS: you have at least two conflicting feelings about this body of water.
#SHAPEOFBONUSBONUS: write it from the perspective of the body of water. Or a mythical or real thing that lives in it.
It would be
a fine proposition
if you ask that we
get dirty right now
bare feet on wet asphalt
bubbles of laughter
tree-broken wrists mending
in the curled lips
of our appalled mothers
Continue reading “Sidewalk Puddle”
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”
Photo Credit: Taken by @snarksparkle on Instagram
Performed at Blu Jaz Cafè for the Luna/tic Poetry Slam (Open Mic), hosted by Word Forward. Performance found here.
Your fingertips leave my body
Like grains of sand cascading over a boulder
Gently we part, your lips still lingering over mine
We smile. No more love poems.
I’m falling and crashing into the asphalt pavement
The rain is cracking down on my exposed spine
Never have I felt this much pressure on my hands to
Get up, get up, let go of your ghost-
Continue reading “Sayonara”
I wish you weren’t so damn charming
I wish you had shifty eyes and red flag habits
I wish you were ugly.
I wish everything you said or did was a signal for me to run as fast as I could.
I wish your sense of humour was more out of phase with mine
I wish I could stop keeping my hands free just in case you want to hold them
I wish I would stop liking guys who will never fall in love with me
Continue reading “Wish”
I think what I feel, right now,
Is the quiet reverberation of words,
As they echo
Ricocheting off the walls.
Continue reading “At Midnight, The Bell Rang”
For the girl who loved him, and hated me for loving him.
His footsteps are earthquakes ringing in my ears,
And adrenaline runs higher and higher with every step.
There is a rush that comes with freedom, with anti-gravity,
One that only I can know.
And you, half-blind, scrawl curses into my name,
Wishing for something you cannot have,
For the thing I refuse to let go of,
Not to posess but to protect.
Continue reading “VI”
Happy Birthday, Friend.
“You’re still here”.
Continue reading “Yesterday’s Sunny Sky”
Inspired by “Notebook Fragments” by Ocean Vuong
Older boys will kill you, mother said. I believed her.
Today I met an older boy. I’m terrified of the man I love, even though he’s the only one who believes me.
Close the door, daddy said. Turn off the lights, daddy said. You’re wasting electricity, daddy said. You’re wasting money, wasting water, wasting space, daddy said.
Listen to your dad, mommy said. You know you’re his jewel, his princess, right? Mommy said.
Note to self: The people who are killing you are also caring for you.
Continue reading “Note to Self”
For Hunter. Happy Birthday.
I know you’re busy, but I got a few things to say.
I won’t take but a second, promise, just let me spill my heart to you for a moment. I have things I wanna say, to you specifically.
Continue reading “Time Is A Construct”
To My Friend, An Artist. Inspired by “The Type” by Sarah Kay
A friend of mine came under fire online on multiple different occasions, and it affected the way she drew and viewed the world and I couldn’t get through to her no matter what I did. So I picked up a pen, and sketched in words, the only way I know how.
Continue reading “Ariana”