Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Hello from Beijing everyone! After my hellish journey over from Hong Kong, the Hong Kong airport actually managed to misplace my suitcase so I didn't get all my stuff back until a few days later! I was without clothes, toiletries and makeup so you can imagine how unhappy I was! Really felt like a hobo. Thankfully they managed to find my suitcase so now I have all my beloved products back. My skin was starting to go haywire from not using my usual skincare and my eyes were shriveling up (not literally of course) from not having any eye cream!

Slightly off topic, I would like to share a piece of poetry I wrote several years ago when I was around 18. That was the peak of my interest in poetry and writing. This poem was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poems, which I was studying at school for the IB programme at the time. Hope you like it.

Here, I give you my heart.
Not a jigsaw puzzle but
A map
Of my world in a thousand pieces,
In a million colours.

This one, over here
From the day
we met,
Still glowing 
with its pearly pink sheen.

Over here, in the corner,
The day I lied 
just to create 
For your ears.

Don’t touch, this one’s 
The day you walked away
Like a periwinkle
Leaving its trusty shell.

That night, the winds blew soft
and cold, gently caressing 
the contours of your shell,
Barely skimming
The surface of my velvet skin.

You were there in my mind,
This glimmering golden shard
Over here,
But your heavy feet were taking you away,
Away from me, from this.

You always thought you were tough,
Like this scarlet one overhead,
But I’m the only person who knows
The weary beatings of your heart,
The whispering nuances of your breath.

Your lips my pillow 
Where my worries melted 
like candy floss
On a hot summer’s day.

Your arms my shelter, 
my executor,
Where peachy white turned to black
And blue
Then crimson red.

Here, I give you my bones.
Not my world but
A jigsaw puzzle
In eighty nine pieces,
Yellowy white.

I do not ask of you 
To put me together 
Only to store me away
In a box.

I do not ask of you
To remember me,
To set these wasted fragments
in your 

All I ask, is for you
To cremate me,
Let my ashes blow away
Like autumn leaves 
On a breezy day

Let them burn
Because the doves
Have died,
The lovers
have lied.

Let them burn
You’re satisfied.

- By Stephanie Sham

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