I live words, I breathe words, I am made of words.

Message from Writer

An aspiring writer from Singapore who can't make up my mind about what I really want to write.

Hence will spew out prose or poems or plays or strange mishmashes of all three.

Or just random ramblings.

never ending

April 10, 2019

she pounds her feet along the mud road,
finds it harder 

legs feel ticklish as she sprints along an infinite track, seeking in vain for 
the end.

a light breeze picks up, grows into a 
a drizzle turns into a downpour, and she shivers, seeking in vain for the end.

vines creep up and up her legs, tangle around her body, thorns cut into her wrists. she sobs. 
seeking in vain for the end.

footsteps tap along her. 
she looks up, and 
an umbrella shields her battered body.

hands wipe and bandage her cut wrists, 
and lips press a kiss on her forehead.
shears cut her loose

and now she’s free. 



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