Celeste

The face of the moon will always look like a tiger to me. I remember E once asked “When will you ever stop searching for the moon?” whenever we’re out at night. And I’d always tell him, “Never.” And then it dawned on me that maybe just like the moon, I’d never stop searching for him in every person I meet He’ll always be my moon… cold, distant and inconstant. One night he’ll show you all of
him, the next time, just half, then a quarter, then nothing at all. Inconstant. He was my moon. But all I’ll ever be is just one of the many other stars.

Celeste

Pop-Out Poetry

I have already been doing blackouts for a while now. It’s my sort of therapy from the humdrum of my everyday life. There was one time when I ran out of black markers and then I thought, why not just cut the words out and pop them out? And that was how I started doing pop-outs.

Unlike blackouts, pop-outs involve more effort and patience as you couldn’t use multiple words or phrases in one line with spaces in between (spaces that you’re not going to use). I’ll do more of this soon. Ciao!

Pop-Out Poetry