echo chamber: earth-sized & shell-shaped

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Image courtesy of: transmissiondream

do you remember
when we were younger
and they told us
we could hear the ocean
if we hold a sea shell to our ears
like those lifeless husks
contained some echo of home?

as a naive & introverted child,
my brown spotted conch shell
became one of my most prized possessions.
I spent hours upon hours
at my auditory beach
closing my eyes
so the waves
could drown out reality.

well it turns out
they lied to us
like they did about everything else
(faeries, santa, growing up)
and the sea-like sounds we heard
is just our surrounding environment
resonating within the cavity of the shell
I guess you cannot escape reality
only distort it temporarily
funny how it’s a cheap trick
replicable with an empty plastic cup
(by holding it up to your ear
or finishing the liquor inside)

Continue reading “echo chamber: earth-sized & shell-shaped”

Faded Jeans

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me & my ‘faded’ jeans

jeans
faded jeans
have you ever wanted
a pair of authentic faded jeans?

but how many times
does denim have to hug your body
before they look like home?

how many ice cream stains
and sun rays and heart breaks
does it take my jeans to fade?
(after the thin layer of monotony is dusted off)

how many revolutions
around a washing machine
does it take my jeans to fade?
(after daily trips from A to B to B to A –
every day the same)

how many cups of detergent
and hours of vigorous scrubbing
does it take my jeans to fade?
(after forgettable encounters
that nobody cares to hear about)

I think I can pay $70
for some manufactured happiness
for some manufactured adventure
for some manufactured faded jeans
I shall layer them on every morning,
to hide my washed out heart.

faux snow white

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image courtesy of: Viccolatte

knock-off snow white
vain and full of lies
don’t be so hasty
in calling me
the apple to your eye
because I am not the type
who needs you to survive

and I will always love
the idea of you
more than I love you
but if you say it first
I will always reply with
“I love you too”
(that’s what the mockingbirds
said I should do)

so mirror mirror
on the wall
who’s the most heartless
of them all?

but don’t despair
if you’re just looking for a good story
I can promise you this:
I may be a bad apple
but the first bite
will ooze a thick sticky happiness
that chokes and leaves you breathless
it’s a perfect nightmare
that a kiss cannot awaken you from

Entertainer Blogger Award (& thank you for 1k)

Hi everyone,

Sorry it has been so long, but I am back! In all honesty, I have been completely caught up in a whirlwind of university exams for the past month which has left me a hollow shell of a person, sans creative energy.

However, I am well into my summer holidays now and I am slowly getting back on my feet & will definitely be posting more regularly.

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not physically on my feet but filled w/ creative energy (borrowed from banksy) yes

Something exciting that has happened in my absence is that I managed to hit 1k followers which is absolutely incredible, thank you. This is the first numbers based milestone that I am celebrating and I am sending so much love to every single one of you who decided that my voice is something you want to listen to in this crazy world filled with too much noise.

To celebrate, I thought I would do something different and finally pass along the Entertainer Blogger Award which Alyssa nominated me for quite some time ago, sorry it has taken me so long to respond! 

Firstly, a little bit about Alyssa. For anyone who doesn’t follow her, I will say hand over heart that she is one of my favourite bloggers ever and you’re missing out. She has consistently entertained me with the letters she writes to her daughter, Lily June, in these universally applicable life lessons filled with tidbits of wisdom told with generous helpings of humour, self awareness and tied together with absolutely beautiful descriptions. Go check out her blog, I’ll wait here. 

Continue reading “Entertainer Blogger Award (& thank you for 1k)”

girl by the sea

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Source

do you remember
the time you cried
as the midnight waves
washed away
her sea foam love
as I tried to drag
your listless body
back to shore?

do you remember
the time vodka and mistakes
ran through my veins
and I clung desperately onto
something, anything
to anchor myself
in this maelstrom of life
and you became
my false sense of security?

because I remember
when you told me
that you were starting to like
the girl who lives by the sea
shy, kind and sweet
salt-stained hair
and sunset cheeks
I guess I stopped listening
when you confessed
that you still yearned
for the mermaid
who didn’t stay,
and that’s when you became
my next mistake.

Continue reading “girl by the sea”

Tiny Letters I Will Never Send: Part Three

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Part 3: musings & reflections on this/us

To readers of this blog (and other poets, artists or storytellers of any shape & form),

Do you ever find yourself gravitating towards trite and uninspiring metaphors to retell the same old stories?

Because I do and it’s been bothering me a lot lately.

A quick scroll down my page & you’ll see my obsession with comparing unrequited love, broken friendships and my overthinking mind to oceans, storms and dark starless nights.

On one hand, I know that it’s so important to always tell your own truth and this constant struggle with body image, establishing boundaries and vocalising my feelings to other people has been mine since I was a little girl. That being said, at times, there’s just this nagging voice at the back of my head that this is an excuse for me to be my own worst enabler.

Instead of focusing on living on the present and fulfilling my responsibilities in the real world, I am finding myself losing hours of the day wallowing in self pity (but as soon as I think that, another voice pipes up in my head telling me that I’m being too harsh and sabotaging my opportunities to feel vulnerability)

I feel like the root of the problem is that I haven’t been able to find balance. At one extreme, it feels like I’m picking apart the stitches that hold me together every few days just to see what words will spill out from from the seams and at the other, I am always swallowing words at the tip of my tongue, smiling, and letting strangers trample over my comfort zone because it’s a shortcut to their happiness, you know?

Continue reading “Tiny Letters I Will Never Send: Part Three”

rubber band dreams

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Collaboration with: Hahanoui

sometimes,
I wonder if there is anyone
that will ever understand me
as I try to stretch my
rubber band dreams
to a land
beyond the valleys of my
rocky self esteem
but idealistic thoughts
mixed with anxiety
are like boulders
too heavy to launch
against the gravity
of rejection

and this cold and heavy heart
can no longer see
the beauty of shooting stars,
no more than ordinary space rocks
that fall from the weight
of all the world’s wishes
they were never built to fulfil.
though who am I
to criticise
and still want to send
my feeble parodies
into the sky?

Continue reading “rubber band dreams”

the all or nothing type

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to the boy I met when I was 17

baby,
will you still love me
when this facade of youth
fades as we age
and the wrinkles of time
kiss these round cheeks of mine
like you have done
a million times over?
what about when
moonlight tumbles
into my midnight hair
and the memories we shared
slowly disappear
will you stay right here
and hold me close
as we watch
our last sunset?

Continue reading “the all or nothing type”

the cynic’s story

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MXQQY

— (because I know how that feels)


Update: I don’t imagine I will be switching permanently to this format but I wanted to experiment with it because I recently bought myself a typewriter and I genuinely love it so much.

Please follow my new instagram account (linked under the picture) for more content like this!

the storm to be (she)

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Image courtesy of: Weewill

trigger warning: to be safe, there are mild allusions to self harm, body image issues, depression etc.

grey skies
and downcast eyes
the lost girl
leaves a trail of
silence and half-lies
in the hopes
that she’ll find
salvation
before the storm
arrives

she has already tried
drawing maps
on her arm
to help her navigate
the cold black nights
but she could never
find the way
before the cross-roads
faded into jagged lines
that mark her skin
with rods of blinding light

Continue reading “the storm to be (she)”