love letter from an alarm clock to a rubber band

Inspired by Sarah Kay's "love letter from a toothbrush to a bicycle tire" (watch here)

I still remember the day we first met. 7am, and I’d begun to forget why I bothered waking up at all. I felt like clockwork—perfectly functioning to the outside view but… empty. Then you came along. Somehow, you made everything fall into place. I so was mesmerized by your beauty that when I finally managed to speak, I’m pretty sure I was shaking.

Our first date is etched into my memory forever.

You giggle shyly as you twist your hair between your fingers. I giggle back, perhaps a little too loudly (the couple beside us seems alarmed). We fumble with the question of who pays the bill; decide to split it in the end. Afterwards, in the garden, your palms in mine. Nothing ever bound together as closely as (h)our hands, spin round and round all night.

Moving in together felt natural, like we were born in the same room. I was always the first one out of bed, but it was never long before you’d drag me off to yoga. And every evening at 6:00 pm, I’d rush to the glass window and watch you pull into the driveway after tying in all the loose ends at work.

Listen, I’m sorry. I lost my temper, I yelled, and I’m really, really sorry. But every time we’d fought before, you bounced back so easily that I assumed you always would… Maybe this time, I pushed you too far.

And now I watch the quiet shadows where you used to lie from my side of the bed. I remember the warmth of your arms wrapped so tightly around me. And I feel like an idiot, because I was meant to spend eternity with you. Did you know I bought a ring?

And now every second I count on my hands is a waste. Every 6pm is a jolt in my gears, a reminder I just can’t shake. If only there was something that could’ve tied us together, forever.

PS: You’re the only one who’s ever made me lose track of time.

The Day COVID Ends

Prompt: Write a poem for a particular occasion.
Since there's been so much fear and gloom spreading lately, I thought it would be fun to write a cute and light-hearted piece about the day we're free again, try to manifest positivity and whatnot. Happy reading!

The day this pandemic is finally over
Will be cherished like a four-leafed clover
Jittery fingers from months of staying home
Will meet another’s skin and softly roam

Joking about how long it’s been since we last met
And thanking the universe for every moment we get

This past year’s been strange, I’ve changed a lot
Met parts of me I had always fought
I can hardly remember what life was like before
But one thing is for sure

As the sun heralds freedom on a grass-green lawn
I’m so glad COVID is finally gone.

break my walls

You said I’d have to break my walls
unlock my front door
raise patterned curtains
wipe dusty windows clean
and let your sunlight in

disarm defences
oust pretences
and let the towel fall.

so I kissed your tender scars
and read our names in the stars

I showed you mine and you laughed.

skinny bandages could never hold – forget salt,
you poured the dead sea whole on my wounds
and carved afresh, more so each day,
each day with you offered new heartbreak

and they say love is blind
so I didn’t think to mind
crimson flags and bleeding curtains
in my house you set aflame
and I remained

dousing fires of our burning bridge with my tears
shielding your fortress from magma-lynched spears
in the garb of your walls,
but somewhere, we forgot it was make-believe
because as I let my walls down, you let me.

and the saddest part isn’t that you turned me away
the saddest part is that I was willing to stay.

When will sleep take me?

Pocketed thoughts unfold
bottomless cauldron once stirred,
twice abysmal

I lie motionless.
When will sleep take me?

Unwavering hollows sought
Still, in fear of all I cannot weave
Which phantom directs the plays of night, and dawnings yon,
cold tragedies?

More you try, the more you fail
I spin six times, helplessly
When will sleep take me?

Hostage held to icy despair
heavy lids, I must cut free

Unwavering hollows sought
a warning: such suits are granted but for eternity
and then sleep will take me.

Maybe that’s why he flipped

Hours, weeks, months, years, a lifetime of doing his best
and no one ever saw it
he felt powerless.

“I can’t make a change, not even a dent, in this huge world”

Every minute, that positive mindset, that selfless mindset, just working because he believed
well, no one ever noticed, let alone appreciated
so belief ran out like his father had when he was five
belief ran out like traces of ink in a pen, now finished entirely.

“I just can’t seem to make my mark, no matter how hard I try
I just can’t seem to tell myself apart from this ocean of just-like-I –”

But there is a way, son,
there is a way for you
for the greater good
serve the greater good
you shall no longer go unnoticed
oh, they will remember long after you are gone

The world will know your name.

Choco Lava Cake + Vanilla Ice Cream

Prompt: Select a dish that represents who you are. Assume the role of your dish and introduce yourself in such detail that the readers salivate and you are able to establish your personality. Time: 15 minutes

As you bite into my Saharan insides through a textured chocolate wall, a nibble of refreshing vanilla ice cream will jerk you awake in stark contrast. I will crack hilarious puns, I will dance in my melting bed, I will sing out of tune for the thrill of it, I will stand my ground (or rather, plate) in intellectual discourse and argue just as passionately about my favourite shape. The warm cocoa ooze flowing from within me will fill you with the comfort of cancelled exams. You will giggle at every unexpected hazelnut and blissfully wonder at just how smart but silly, warm but cool, comforting but shocking every homely juxtaposed moment devouring me will be.

Auntie Talk

She stands on the road
Eyeing passers-by
Each could be that man who will reach for her thigh
The one she was so emphatically warned against
She eyes respectable businessmen, kind fishmongers on the street –

Don’t show us your skin (but make sure it’s fair)
Don’t diet, are you trying to become thin?
Don’t travel alone
or stay out after dark
They’re stronger than you, honey
Don’t play with the boys at the park.

Do remain chaste, wide hips, small waist, pouty lips, pretty face
but do not wear makeup –
be natural
because your flaws make you beautiful, perfectly imperfect
but that’s perfect (and you’re not)

Don’t get us wrong,
You can be anything
whatever you want to be!

Because girls rule the world, dear
not democracy

as long as you’re shorter than your husband
and make dinner every night

as long as you don’t run off with guys you just met
or worse, girls
or get into a fight

as long as you listen to us and follow along
and don’t learn enough to know that we’re wrong.

Jealousy is not a green eyed monster

Jealousy is not a green eyed monster
Feeling was never so bold
Vines through cracks in cobblestone pavements
prefer to grow untold

If you are green in the best ways,
We shall camouflage, without a trace
still survive as the years fade

Some weeds
will always remain

Don’t call me pretty


Dear human being,

your words bloom in my cravings of a girl who has starved herself for years
you feed me soft chocolate cake, and I will not try to puke it out afterwards

snowflakes warm my soul, I am seen
I am loved more than he ever loved me
because he didn’t tell me nearly enough
he didn’t tell me I was pretty
like you just did.

your compliment blossoms feelings of acceptance, of spring, in me
you have awarded me the stamp of approval that is all paperwork’s wildest fantasy
all those years I had to tell myself
and today, you’ve said it for me –
“you’re pretty.”

I want more cake, I need it everyday
someone please bring me cake tomorrow
one taste, pulls me back, the potent drug
and this new hunger feels far more hollow

tomorrow is today
but you have plans
satisfy my needy grasps
for appreciation?
no thanks

and it’s not enough for me to tell myself anymore!

as I fly into oblivion
while lying on the floor,

I don’t know it yet
but I will come to regret
the way I loved
how that chocolate felt

All your love,
as I wallow in self-pity
but I liked it
so please,
don’t call me pretty.


note on the roof:
called it art.

My being is lost in a meaningless blur
of waiting for the end — but lost is beautiful

And flaws our models?
no we are not jealous of perfection
nor afraid — quite simply
it does not exist

Mistakes make it real
but try not to make them

Be human — not too much
let down my walls
and it hurt
but hurt is only human — wish not

What the actual

Wet fingers in the socket
Pulls his own plug
“joy can only follow sadness”
contrives my addictive drug

Little girl left a note on the roof
last week
she called it art
and so do we

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑