Title: Experiments from the private journal of a disgruntled woman

I see your photo and imagine you must have been sweet

Depression and anxiety are like insects.

I learnt to believe that bad things come in threes

This read hits the pain of being a final girl, one who is told of strength after and yet is never given the care.

& her handshake is an embrace. The second mystery is that she smiles the vowels of my name

It’s not yours until you bleed on it, until it tastes the kiss of Vancouver rain

A chiselled jaw rattles my pace As a golden cross dangles just below That luscious organ Where crisp ash blackens

When ends were short And long drives down bleak highways Restless and dusted Seemed to distort our reality

An atlantic ocean leaped off-- A crack in the ledge Twenty seven circled cage

Nothing quite says “It’s time to duel” like vigorously licking leftover raw egg goop off of a silicone spoon

Fake a smile when your eyes meet, when they spot you grabbing baked beans or browsing the KPOP section on Spotify.

I still think of home when I think of you Though the walls have fared better days And the light crashes every now and again

My lola is the kind of person to rise earlier than the sun

flat cap and cane gravel voice backyard garden of eden

she speaks no english // smiles only at her husband // loves you like winter sun at 3p.m. on a winter’s day

Magic happened here tonight, the fireflies were whispering, The wind was blowing breathless and every star was listening

I fix my mind on the midnight stars and swoon, For the vastness swipes the breath from me, I see the holy land smeared ’fore my eyes

Maybe that’s one reason why translation is not much-practiced in the Philippines

after all this time, i finally look back and realise it could have been you.