The Last One Standing

Home  I went. I paid the bill.

Read More

Yellow Chair: MINISTRY OF MORAL PANIC

MINISTRY OF MORAL PANIC is an innocent-looking book; packed within its pages are seemingly explosive weapons filled to the brim with gun powder. Do we say phrases like ‘filled to the brim with gun powder’? Is that sentence correctly constructed? I don’t know. But what I do know is that the debut collection of Amanda…

Read More

singaporean subject-matter

– a poem:
we toe the lines,

between greyscale latitude

and the silky length of colour,
stained by curry –

Read More

Photo Challenge: Transformation

via Photo Challenge: Transformation THIS IS MY CONTEMPORARY TRANSFORMATION It really hurts. I can feel it inside of me, moving around, wriggling coldly, not bothering to meld into the warm organs of mine. I hear it crying out, ready to wrench its wings out of its own back. The feathers make their way up my…

Read More

How To Live: Pull Up Your Socks

Let your pair of socks brush against your legs and itch to go higher. Pull up your socks. What does it mean, to pull up your socks? I bet that it doesn’t mean to literally grab the hem of your socks and pull them up your legs (and I’d win that bet!). What do you think it…

Read More

Our Afternoon

The hanger rotates, its steel hook glistening in the sweat of the afternoon. The sunshine makes a sound on the plastic, a sound we cannot hear. The hanger rotates, its steel hook glistening in the sweat of the afternoon. The sunshine makes a sound on the plastic, a sound we cannot hear. Mom is arguing with…

Read More

There is this Golden Sunshine

THERE IS THIS GOLDEN SUNSHINE There is this golden sunshine. The light that slowly filters in and pours into your room and fills it with a magical, fairy-like light, that makes you cringe in bed and toss-and-turn under a navy duvet  until your limbs find it within themselves to wake up and face the cold…

Read More