Tangerine Peels - By Melissa Lee Ee Jiet

Written By: Melissa Lee Ee Jiet

Category: Poetry

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Melissa Lee Ee Jiet, writing under the name Tangerine Peels, presents a compelling piece titled "Tangerine Peels" for the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. As part of the poetry category, this work delves into the intricate dynamics of familial relationships and cultural traditions. With vivid imagery and emotional depth, Melissa's poem captures the essence of generational ties and the complexities of personal identity.

About the Work

"Tangerine Peels" is a poignant exploration of the emotional layers within family dynamics. Melissa Lee Ee Jiet uses the metaphor of peeling tangerines to unravel themes of bitterness, regret, and the longing for reconciliation. The poem's vivid imagery and emotional resonance invite readers to reflect on their own familial connections and the inherited burdens that shape their identities.

Tangerine Peels

Original Submission by Melissa Lee Ee Jiet

Tangerine Peels

Melissa Lee

Tangerines,

Almost a staple in every Chinese household.

The herald of a new year, and one of our most consumed fruits, But have you ever wondered:

Why so much pith?

Why is it always a hassle to enjoy their sweetness, Without the sudden burst of bitterness,

as our teeth bite into the white fibre among their flesh?

I would remember my mother peeling tangerines, The air thick with their sweet and sour tang,

Her hands, weathered like ancient silk spinners,

unravelled fragrant zest into ribbons,

pulled pith from flesh, one strand at a time.

Those same hands that smoothed my hair,

were the ones that pushed me into shadow.

Solve it yourself, she said,

as if plucking my pith would make me sweet enough to forget. When you plucked the pith from me,

you didn’t just discard my bitterness,

you peeled away the softness I held for you, strand by strand. Leaving nothing, but my bleeding flesh.

Her back always faced me,

her slick, black hair tied into a waterfall,

reflecting only my own face,

mimicking her pair of eyes that refused to meet mine. My cries, my pleas, my voice, my everything,

plucked and discarded,

like the stray white hairs she yanked;

The pith of her own tangerines.

I watched her at the kitchen table, dim light pooling between us. A plate of peeled tangerines, her torn voice sobbing, her pitch-black eyes finally met mine.

Reddened, swollen, filled with resentment,

and perhaps sadness.

Why can’t you set me free?

Her hoarse voice trembled like waves,

drowning in her own regrets and fears.

Silence.

My eyes bore into hers.

My fingers reached for the tangerines.

Pluck,

Pluck,

Pluck,

Pluck.

The pith clung to my hands,

as her bitterness clung to my name.

I watched her in front of me again,

the same dim light, the same plate of tangerines, My eyes no longer meeting hers,

my fingers pulling her bitterness out of my ripping flesh. Her trembling hands peeling apart sorrow,

layer by fragile layer.

Thud.

A fallen tangerine.

Its skin bruised and wrinkled,

deemed to be thrown aside and rot alone- Like how you left me, drowning in sorrow, how your mother ignored your cries,

how our ancestors left their tangerines.

From the bitter tangerine tree of our lineage, you plucked my pith just as yours had been taken. The fruit bore its scars across generations,

each peel, a thread to our mothers’s mothers. Their pride thick as pith, their silence sour as rind, their hands, too full of the fruits their bear,

to hold their own daughter’s tears.

I watched my mother lying beside me,

her hollowed eyes bore holes into the ceiling, with nothing but echoes of her heart’s beating,

and the chaos in her mind that broke her spirit.

She gazed at me once again,

as I stood with my back facing her, peeling tangerines.

我对不起你,

Another cry broke out,

Her shaky hand reached for the embodiment

of her regrets and faults,

gasping in her madness of lament and sorrow,

while her tangerine tree wilts.

I watched my mother break down in front of me, into a child that resembles me,

The same almond shaped eyes, the same purplish-brown lips, the same weight of sorrow and faults we carry on our shoulders, passed down by our mothers and their mothers.

The so-called heirloom, the bitter tangerine tree. The never-ending harvest of fruits-

I watched my mother sit up in her bed,

her tired eyes gazing out from the window view. Her wounded palm, filled with needle marks and medical tape, fumbling and peeling the pith of the orange-coloured flesh. Each peel is an apology you thought would sweeten the air, but the bitterness beneath the pith lingered still.

As I sat down beside her hospital bed,

the bitterness of orange peels lingered around my fingertips, Will you ever forgive me?

I placed a piece of orange between my lips,

as I held the wailing’s hand as I listened to her confession.

Perhaps,

perhaps.

When the tangerines grow again,

when their flesh and pith can be enjoyed together, when our ancestors’ pride could be placed aside, when you no longer pluck my piths out again.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a celebration of literary excellence, bringing together diverse voices from around the world. Participants present their unique perspectives through poetry and creative writing, offering a rich tapestry of storytelling that highlights cultural narratives and personal journeys.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Melissa Lee Ee Jiet for her evocative poem "Tangerine Peels." Her contribution to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 is a testament to the power of poetry in exploring deep-seated emotions and familial connections.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.