air i breathe

twisted replicas, childhood journals
and sprayboard paint
down old mrs lao hong's lane
little pony starts to play
and im lost in a world of
ponies and pinkish hues or paradise glitz
where laughter was gay elaborate happy,
not homo gay.
i sit and stare at the old cardboard box
and old memories flood in
leaving me by the bystands
of years as they flash by
1987 when i escaped the womb
1988 when i still wet my diapers and couldnt spell moon
1989 when i started to talk words the adults could actually understand
1990 when i blew off four candles on my birthday cake
1991 when i went to kinder and learnt my abcs
1992 when i played teacher and laughed
1993 when i graduated from k3
1994 when i entered primary school as p1 kid and couldnt understand why so many kids had to make a fuss and cry on the first day of school.while i sat w rach n thot'nannypoopoo'
1995 when i enjoyed reading enid blyton n peter and jane books
1996 when i was in primary 3faith and faked i had a headache so i wouldnt have to do chinese dancing
1997 when i joined instrumental ensemble n cldnt play the piaonica
1998 when i regressed, played the recorder.
1999 primary six, the big PSLE.(please stop learning english) and i decided i would go to cedar girls cos i thot their uniform's was so 'cool'.
2000 when i first stepped into teenhood and declared by 15 id have my first book published.
2001 when i played for school chapel
2002 when i lied to mom just to hang out
2003 with one foot in and another one out
2004 where ive already crossed the borders of singapore and wading in my new experiences of life down under.
2005 and for all those years ahead that remain
i aspire
i aspire
i aspire
to build my own business empire
to continue dreaming and soaking in the luxuries n simple blissfulness of life
raw editions of a 100years's spun span
repeats itself on echoes, once through
a billion years
triple times two
and genres of music
expands, becomes two hundred.over more than it had once begun.
soon ill be that old lady
walking by the skyscrapers of the once great new york city
established and well in grained with maturity's pulses of a
breathing walking talking human
purchasing a plastic barbie that pouts and twirls, still
from the rows and aisles of a massive toys r s store
for some grandchild some kid of mine bore.