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I hope you enjoyed whatever I published. I’m not the best writer but I hope whatever I do write appeals to you in some way. And I look forward to the day that I’ll see one of your peices of work. I look forward to when another writer enters the world

Message from Writer

My passions include but are not limited to; Greek mythology, writing (obviously), reading, drawing,
N E T F L I X, food and family.
I like books that are about independent people fighting on physical or mental battlefields. I like anime, k-dramas, webtoons, musicals and school (believe it or not). I hope you had a good day. Or at least a day with a book in it. Books make things better ( ;

Published Work

Water Body

Dreaming of Moana

I feel the ghosts of its energy, surging me to sleep,

The bed moves in waves and waters, always catching me,

My throat scratches from screams and gasps, a salty memory,

My limbs dragging out, they’re finally floating free,

I’m blinded by sun, as it’s picture tosses on blue-green,

I hear the colony of seagulls, cry from the Norfolk tree,

I brush off grainy sand.

Take me, dreams,

Take me, land,

And take me, sea.


The Tricky Truth In Tongue Twisters

A warm wardrobe, wrapping me in wary darkness and warping worries of the world.
A song sending sweet shivers down spines to soothe sore hearts.
A mindful mother, making malt milkshakes and humming melancholy melodies.
A lovely life living in happy, healthy harmony with humans who never have harmful havoc.

Seeking refuge is redeeming your respectful rights rather than rotting in ridiculous, irrational risk.

My Heart Beats Sickly #sweetlybitter

What is this poison, I taste on my lips?
This pain that has struck my heart?
The days pass in exasperated sighs,
With my world ripped apart.
I’d do everything for you, my girl,
I would serve you hand and foot.
And yet you still take me a love fool,
But that’s too simply put.
You have slowly bitten my soul away,
My heart’s abandoned left me.
Instead, it flies with you, greedy girl,
Oh, when will I be free?
When you laugh seductively, when rose lips shine,
And your eyes glow, when moonlit.
But even worse, your heart’s too sweet,
I gain cavities from it.
Your gentle affection, your mind control,
How can you be so cruel?
My heart beats in unnatural ways,
All because of you.
So take it- take my youth and wealth,
Take my whole damn life.
You’ve lowered me to my aching knees,
Please, won’t you be my wife?

I have a question... or maybe a few.

How can we love, if we have none?
How can we play, if we hate fun?
How can we make things good,
If people aren’t understood?
If colour draws a line of hate?
If there’s hunger, war, sexism, rape?
If we don’t appreciate or respect?
If there’s differences we can’t accept?
How can life again be well,
If we treat each other like Hell?
I have a question, or maybe a few,
I was wondering, if you have them too.

History Alive


Line up, listen in, imma tell you a story,
One that you said was dark and gory,
But the book is open,
And my boy ain’t jokin’,
When he tells you this,
Your life was a lie.
See this guy,
Ain’t as bad as you think,
Clink, clink.
Sit back, let that tea sink,
Drink, drink.
As we spill the truth,
Welcome to the booth,
Let’s start this thing,
Sit back Zeus.

You find he balances, 
Life and death,
He ain’t never raped,
Or took your breath,
Never started a war,
Or been a bore,
Was a faithful guy, 
Kissed his wife bye bye,
When she was stolen by her mum, 
Leaving my guy glum,
In this grumpy old slum, 
That you left him with.
But look at him, the mighty king, 
Ruler of the dead,
The keeper of souls, 
With the smart, witty head,
Unlike his siblings, 
Ain’t a player in bed,
This guy that you’ve wrongly...

He Who Flew Too Close To The Sun

I can barely breath. I watch the glinting surface rise closer as gravity pulls me in it’s harsh embrace. Closing my eyes, I feel wax drip down my back, branding me, a reminder of my shame. I was once something special, something that defied the skies. What have I become?
As a child I played with the wind, rising higher than most. I told myself that because of my family, I’m born better than the others, so I have to act it. You see, my father was a genius. He could create the most beautiful masterpieces, his wings by far the best. Carved so elegantly from candles, the feathers were dazzling and strong. But not strong enough to hold my desire.
I dreamed of chasing suns, of caressing the tips of flames. Surely skin as tough as mine could not be burnt. But of course, my head was held so high in the clouds, I failed to realise how close I...

Love in Words

The Love Song Of My Life

To my “bestest” friends, whom I could not be happy without.
You know I love learning, so teach me a song,
A song of what love is about.

You sing of being accepted, of living a free soul,
You strum guitars of happy, of hearts feeling whole,
You live with problems and heartbreak, and never ask a thing,
I hope there’s never a day, I do not hear you sing,

I curse and fault and worry, but you are just the same,
I’m always here to hold you, through blizzards or through flame,
I don’t care if I’m not the best, because you are here to guide,
You have now idea, when I think of you, my thoughts are filled with pride,

I know we’re not eternal, we will one day grow apart,
But for now, I am glad, I love you with all my heart.

From the rules I will bend,
From my heart that has no end,
From your “bestest” friend,

Phenomenal Woman

Anyone Can Dream

Some dream of becoming scientists, or speakers, or CEOs, or stars. They dream of becoming something special. But anyone can become a teacher, right?
Some dream of changing the world, or inventing something ground breaking, or being remembered by all of the world. Some dream of saving lives, or achieving greatness, or breaking down barriers. Some dream of making a difference. But what is making a difference? Is it changing the world or is it changing a life? Is it having ambition or is it giving hope? Is it learning or is it teaching? What if it was a simple as being good at your medium wage job in a unordinary town in a country none thinks of?

My teacher made a difference. She is the epitome of the saying “Catch a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he’ll eat for a lifetime.” She takes her job to another level, teaching kids ...

Band Name


“Lollygaggers”- I think that this group would be a band of outcasts or juveniles, singing about very untalked about subjects by drawing from personal experience. Lollygagging means to dawdle or waste time, which is why I think their music would be really emotional, cause it ties in with the feeling of worthlessness that is popular amongst young adults and teens. It also comes into that subject of depression. The genre would be perhaps a rock take on classical music. I’ve found that a lot of people say majoring in music is a waste, that next no one will be able to profit from it. They also say that rock and classical music are dead genres, there’s no point clinging onto them. Which is the story of the band, they might feel that they’re wasting time, they’re a dead thing that doesn’t need to be revived. So, in a way, their music would be a way to prove themselves wrong. They would...

The Living Strawberry

Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet,
The sun rose new,
The blue birds too,
The bright red treat,
Sweet, sweet, sweet.

Believe, believe, believe,
It sings with breeze,
It moves with ease,
It’s dancing leaf,
Believe, believe,

Strawberry, stawberry,
This living fruit,
This lively thing,
Red as cherry,


The Cliffhanger

Push me to the edge of my tolerance, to test my patience and fire. If there is danger and harm, I will not allow you to sleep in safety. If there is restriction and discrimination, I will loosen the weak from you. If there is anything but what you promised should be, I will make you eat your words and with it, dirt. Nevemind, you told me to exceed expectations, so: Push me over the edge.

Almost Sane.

Dark as day,
Bright as night,
With the bees,
That have no bite.

Writing Resolutions

Another Year

As a writer, I would like to practice writing more poetry and abstract material. I would also like to dip into the daunting world of 2nd person story’s (ominous music intensifies). 
In the coming year, I hope to include more perspective into my writing and to learn the world better through my words.

But ultimately, at the end of the year I want to look back and be able to say “I have improved.” Because to call this a successful year, I need to be a better version of myself in aspects of both my life and my writing.

Tiny Love Story

’Till Death

This was the same pen I wrote my vows with. I’m in a black dress this time.

This sadness is nothing new. But with you by my side, I was surprised everyday, for surely the world couldn’t contain this much joy. Now cancer has claimed you. Greedy b*tch...

You etched your way into my heart and became me. No. I’ve learnt I am my own person. So are you. Together, we were more than a person. We were a bond that was strained and tested, but never broken. It never will be. That’s what I thought anyway. Rest in peace.

#serendipitouscomp- Peppermint eyes

My heart yearns as I stand, a sad little puppy, outside our park. How? How did this happen? I did everything right- be a gentleman, take her on fun dates, support her, get her gifts, love her. Why didn’t she love me back?
“Did you want a lift home?” She smiles at me, her bright red hair blinding in this light. My eyes burn. “John?”
I forget how to speak.
I forget how to breathe.
I forget how to not be in love.
“Um... I’m fine... thanks.” I will not cry. I will not cry. Those peppermint eyes will not see me so vulnerable. They’ve seen enough.
“I’m going to head off now,” Her smile disappears as she lays her hand on my shoulder. “I hope you can understand. It was never my intention to hurt you.”
For the last time in my life, I watch her walk away from me. She gets in her silver Sudan, grips onto the...


Shhh.... I’m only a couple weeks late ^_^

Do you still live where you were born? 
No. I was born in New Zealand and moved to Australia when I was about three. 

How many languages do you speak/study? 
I speak English. I learnt a bit of German in primary/elementary school and recently started learning Japanese. I will probably learn Maori when I’m older.

Do you consider yourself a good student? 
Probably, yes. I’m alright. I’ve gotten a student of the year award every year since year one, got best all rounder for my grade, I’m in the XL (nerd) class and get good grades. I’ve been nominated to attend a few comps and workshops over the years and got the Michael Crandon MP dedicated commitment award.

Do you sport?
Yeah. I’ve been playing touch football for a few years and I do good in cross country at school.

Are you religious? 
Am I? I don’t think so. It’s weird. I’m...

Open Prompt

Pencil code

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Adam looked up at the dark ominous sky, the stars sparkling in his hazel eyes. How beautiful and empty the night seemed, it made him feel still, despite the bitter winter winds shoving him. Adam raised his hand, reaching out for the moon and signing as he fell short once again. The distance made him feel helpless. Just like Sam.
A sharp pain embedded itself in Adams broad chest. It bring him and his ambitions back to earth. The landing was unpleasant and Jarring. He turned around and walked back to his car, being guided by the headlights and feeling guilty to leave the moon alone in it’s eternal spot in the sky. He picked up the steel urn from the back leather seat and spun on his foot, making the gravel fly in all directions. Back at his spot at the cliff side, Adam brushed a piece of golden hair from his face and with it, a tear.


Mixtape WILD

With Infinite Love and Dreams.

Music, rhythm, beat. They have etched themselves into every small movement, into every loud thought. In no particular order, in no one genre, in no definite time period, here are twelve songs that would make up my perfect mixtape. At the moment.

  1. Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra. A song full of gratefulness and optimism. Easy to belt out in a good mood.
  2. Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story by the original Hamilton Broadway cast. Depressing? Yes. Makes you question life? Yes. But it’s beautiful.
  3. Dear Theadosia by the original Hamilton Broadway cast. A calm, soothing song about a parent’s admiration. A refreshing new kind of love.
  4. Hooked On A Feeling by Blue Swede. Good to dance and sing along to.
  5. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. It’s so diverse, iconic and ahead of their time, it’s hard not to admire it.
  6. I Want You Back by The Jackson 5. So catchy. And MJ...

Open Prompt

Pencil code

Music. Why do we listen to it? Why does it help to calm us? Why do rely on it to make us feel better? Maybe it’s because the sound, loud in our ears, seems to drown out the noise of our thoughts, our worries, our realities. Maybe it’s because the soothing beat, lyrics and emotion of the sounds make us feel like we are not the only ones feeling these feelings. Maybe it’s because the happiness and energy of the song makes us feel happy and energised as well, even in our darkest moments. The feeling of the song, the rhythm, it brings to our lives the order in chaos, it makes us realise the light buried in darkness, it takes us out of reality for just a moment. We listen to music to forget the stress, the sadness, the loneliness, the madness and the doubt that plagues us. We are transformed into a brand new world that is perfect...

Library Magic

Thank You

Every second Thursday I forget. Every second Friday I have the joy of remembering. With the card I keep safely in my bag and the school bus that takes me to the shops down the road, I run down the side of the road, through the park, to the place where the mobile library awaits. All of a sudden, I diasapear.

Every Friday I go to “Macca’s Friday” with my friends. Every second Friday, as we walk to the basketball court to sit around and do whatever useless stuff we do, I run off. I know the doors are automatic, but it feels like magic, watching them open to embrace me. The cool air conditioning brings the smell of coziness and relief to my nose. The Australian heat, the idea of walking home in the sun, the shouts of friends, they’re far from mind. What will I find today?
Every second Friday, although I don’t know them, nor do they...

Novel Writing Competition 2018

For Michael

At first I didn’t believe it, it couldn’t be. But then the world started turning, horns started blaring, I heard the crack of my phone dropping onto the pavement. I finally found someone to love and live with for the rest of my life and now he’s gone. It hurts to think of Michael’s name.

I’m standing under the street lights, feeling the water pelt down on my skin and soak through my white blouse. It doesn’t matter that I’m crying, it doesn’t matter that everyone is going to see my bra through my drenched shirt, it doesn’t matter that my jeans are going to take forever to dry and my new heels are ruined. The easiest thing to do is let the water cleanse me and let the sound hypnotise me. I am air and yet I am lead.
I have been standing outside the subway for so long that a café owner walks across the road with her...

Why I Write

I am stuck in my head, my head that is stuck in the clouds, the clouds of the world’s that I weave.

Questions plague my mind. This is probably why. Why I decide to create these worlds. I am stuck in my head and my head is stuck in the clouds, the only thing that unglues me is this pencil. The pencil that weaves my thoughts, my questions, into a fake reality. The pencil you see, isn’t just a pencil. The pencil makes it so I am not me. This pencil makes a world that does not have rules nor boundaries. This pencil makes me not stuck in my head. And that is why I keep it, to recount the adventures my newest self has enjoyed, to weave once more with my pencil. If I didn’t, how would they ever get me out of the clouds, or how will anyone join me.

Words fill my heart. This is probably what. What inspired me to create these worlds. My nose is stuck in a book. The book becomes apart of me, my life,...