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?

Sigh,

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

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.