The Painters Left Marks

the two men were at my window when i woke up,

and I think I might have screamed –

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Protected: 29th December: The Scariest Week of my Life

There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

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singaporean subject-matter

– a poem:
we toe the lines,

between greyscale latitude

and the silky length of colour,
stained by curry –

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Tiny Existences

It is so hard to pretend that lots of things do not matter and should never have. It’s been a long time since I told myself to get over things that I have shoved on a pedestal in my mind; that I have constantly treated like a special sculpture and buffed and polished all its…

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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…

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