She takes her favourite, most human-like instrument and sits and vainly attempts for its over-embellished meaning to make outright reconstructed sense again – an alarming child prodigy with whispers of carefree carelessness still ringing – still stinging – near her rambunctious and oft than not juvenile mind and she simply carries a way with sweet, sweet Korean disposition

Willingly imprisoned midst the strung-up ammunition of a lifetime – this. is. the. British. go-between, singing to serendipitously scintillate between her recon-strained fingers for a very best and abruptly tender friend

Lonely and alone in a crowd of falsified pretenders – those who pose a most lukewarm and hostilise-d threat, and all at a sudden once-upon-an-eerily-estranged-existence

Jealousy and envy-laden little people, comfortably yet uncontrollably plagiarised courtesy of these parental parents who wish to express and witness a pre-ordained condition … outlandishly fabricate the next great asked-for masterpiece

Released by unknowing degrees of misplaced evil, when those who cannot teach learn to manhandle and preach

They need to remain in these screaming and vicarious wings of shadow-casting theirs

To outcast, not outlast their very own needy necessity

Utterly, painstakingly, none too problematically dependent upon a heartily fixated violin string

She is Min, a movement of, and on her homegrown own and ferociously catered for by her overindulgent nature, mindfully guided by these serenely estranged, maniacally unstoppable fixations

Stranger things have seriously failed at happening – her adolescent and perfectly in-tune and descriptively, deceptively addled mind narrows the artistic route so soon as she becomes heard of … wholly addicted to

This bodily-framed thing, wherein fantastical dreams wish to escape and whimsically breathe : til unearthing the kaleidoscopic truth

She could not put it down even if she wanted to