Thursday, September 30, 2010

The Glass Shoe

by Atikah Muhsin on Monday, 06 September 2010 at 10:54

Could it be?
That when I happen to enjoy a cup o' hot chocolate
My toe fiddling on the sense of new mattress
The flame, furious and caring
The itchy blanket, wrapping me in security
From that mean cold air;
That you would knock
Upon my humble cottage door?
Do I deserve such perfection?

Could it also be?
That when those two rascals would betray me
Arguing, terrifying
Shoving me into that Imbecile seat hard;
You would appear beside me like a ghost
Snap your fingers in front of my nose
And it all glitters to a colourful puppet show?

Or could it be?
That when I'm stuck here in this shrinking box,
Claustrophobic and raptured
My heart gasps
For that field where green grass grows
On a hill where I would give my knees an embrace;
You would somehow
Climb over my window pane
Take my hand and 'hopscotch' me there?

Could it be, too?
That when I'm trampled to death by a cow;
You would come
You would shoo it away
You would have your loving arms around me
Telling me everything is okay
And that I look far from ugly?

I don't know who you are
I don't know where you at
But Love,
Should you believe in Him
He'll do you wonders
Should we believe in destiny
It'll grant us


Siti, you never fail at making me feel envious of you.
Azhaari, you inspire me as a writer.
Fatin, I miss you so much..


I know my own piece betrays my age. hahah and I know, too, that it's typical and my vocabs just bore you. Guess I'm around those who write that i felt like grabbing my shaker and kill the papers. Excuse me for I'm far from good. But I enjoy writing so what the hell. hee. Please be proud of me. hahah c(:

P/S: You will have to watch Corpse Bride to know what hopscotch means.

love, Atikah.

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