Month: October 2015

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• ma~da

  Wow so I have not written a single proper, this-is-my-life-now post for more than a month.

  Here is my life now: busy, but good.

  I don’t feel very in touch with school this semester – probably a post-exchange syndrome – and I’m expecting first class honors to slip out of my grasp by the end of this term. But I’m okay with that.

  This period of time has been more about what I’m doing beyond NUS. It’s a quarter of a year of my life, not just “a semester” contextualized by school.

  So it has been lots of friends, new projects (!!!), side work, meeting people new&old. And lots of prime time with my SP3 making plans for the future.

  A future that has just had its windows blown wide open, because… well yeah:

  About being single again, it has been exciting. Finding myself outside the context of a relationship… the freedom can get overwhelming at times, but so far I am quite enjoying being overwhelmed by everyone and everything.

  xo

  lots of positive vibes.

  October 17, 2015

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• a kind of madness

  for anyone who had food become a demon in their mind, xo

  To stand mid-aisle at the grocer’s,

  shelves unraveling in sensual

  chrome; to have this cookie pressed in

  the flex of my palm, insisting,

  crying a bald infant’s need to

  be fed. It reminds me that I

  am mad and have become numbers –

  each pound and rib immaculate,

  quietly approaching zero. If

  this self could still be mine, hold me

  up at the cashier, razor thin

  blade against bone, and have me choose:

  body or your life?

  body or my life.

  October 15, 2015

  body image, eating disorder, poem, poetry, spilled ink

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• quantum improbability

  (or, the crudeness of measurement)

  Subatom flicker

  – ing through a haze of probability
  into the lick of my open palm,

  finding you was mere plot: latitude against longitude
  on an imaginary plane.

  To keep you safe I swallow you whole. Warm for days,
  you burn into nights.      I measure skid marks
  to chase your spin and speed

  but logic has lost count. A second is a braid
  that unspools into hours held
  by thumb on throat to your pulse now mine.

  The neighbour upstairs thinks I am possessed.

  The letterbox creaks for release.

  Inside me a glyph spreads like virus, foreign
  and incurable.

  October 12, 2015

  poems, poetry, quantum mechanics, spilled ink

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• comfort of a thought you

  It is the thought you I want most. Its lines
  sharp and scalpel clean, breathing cool
  words from my tattered paperbacks. I fold
  in neat angles; a colt with origami legs quiet
  on my palm.

  The you now are impossible shapes in a dream
  of water. Rushing, rising, ebb and slow-
  shifting haze of hues I cannot name. Leave me
  blinking in a curling tide. Fill each crest with hope
  and a hologram you; Its sea-foam laughter

  streaming through my cellophane hands. Awake,
  I would unfold you and read your edges like braille.

  October 8, 2015

  love poetry, poem, poetry, writing

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