It Blew Up On Me...

I realised that everytime I step into the kitchen to create something hauntingly beautiful, the kitchen catches fire. Not too long ago, I tried again. This time, it blew up on me. Naturally I was sent to the hospital for intensive care and accelerated recovery, but then there wasn't much to recover, just empty holes waiting to be filled. I guess I never did learned my lesson that fire is, beyond a doubt, a good servant, submissive, fulfilling your desires. But when it relinquishes its role as a lesser entity and takes on the omnipotent position of a master, it destroys, and mind you, it does so in a magnificent and spectacular fashion.

I am still lying on the bed, burnt... smelling like a cooked piece of lamb