Dancing with Blades
A twisted memory of a child's fascination with blades. What kind of outcome would fester, I wonder. Didn't mum ever tell you not to play with sharp objects.
My eyes in a daze,
Not frantic nor in a craze,Pupils fixed on the light,
That runs from left to right,
Reflected on cold, flat steel,
The solution of this ordeal.
My soft fingertips dance,
Playfully in a trance,
Along the polished edges
Sharpened to slice wedges,
Feeling it's fine line,
Tempting it with time.
Playfully in a trance,
Along the polished edges
Sharpened to slice wedges,
Feeling it's fine line,
Tempting it with time.
My nails tap rhythmically,
The clinks ringing clearly,
My skin craves viscous liquid,
The break of dripping fluid,
Flowing millimetre by millimetre,
Trickling down my fingers.
The clinks ringing clearly,
My skin craves viscous liquid,
The break of dripping fluid,
Flowing millimetre by millimetre,
Trickling down my fingers.
A blare shatters my concentration,
Reality shakes my imagination,
I exclaim,"But Mum I want to cut the oranges!"
She replies,"No you can't, it is dangerous."
The food processor has taken my chance,
To have this exhilarating dance.
Reality shakes my imagination,
I exclaim,"But Mum I want to cut the oranges!"
She replies,"No you can't, it is dangerous."
The food processor has taken my chance,
To have this exhilarating dance.
- SY
12:36H 21st June 2016
Jalan Pahang
SY is a 'Jacqueline of all trades' who loves wearing plaids.
She doesn't believe in things that fade and fulfills the promises that she made.
She seeks the hearts of the troubled, to be a listener in times when things are doubled.
She's the kind who stands in the gap, who will only call it quits when it's a wrap.
She doesn't believe in things that fade and fulfills the promises that she made.
She seeks the hearts of the troubled, to be a listener in times when things are doubled.
She's the kind who stands in the gap, who will only call it quits when it's a wrap.
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