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Poetry

Cup of Tea

When I first wrote this poem, it wasn’t about anybody in particular. It was assignment for my creative writing class, and I just wrote what came to me. It was about a relationship that at first seemed beautiful, perfect even. Then everything started falling apart. Months after I wrote this poem, I began relating to it. Now, this piece is a reminder to me of someone I wish I never met.

I always thought you were my cup of tea.

All along,

that’s how I pictured you.

In my favorite mug

warm and cozy,

drawing me in.

Your scent drifts through my house,

and it lingers

so everything smells

like spices and comfort and you.

I take you in my hands

You’re burning to the touch

which I choose to ignore

but I can not just

ignore when you scorch

my throat and burn my tongue

I can hardly even taste

you anymore, because all I

can taste is pain

but I keep taking sips until

my mouth is numb and

the mug is empty

and there’s glass on the floor,

shattered,

similar to my heart.

And now the tea is gone,

so I have finally rid of you.

 

I’ve always preferred coffee, anyway.

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Written By

Freshman at the University of Maryland. Obsessed with chai lattes, the color yellow and Timothée Chalamet. Her Twitter is @mollycuddy.

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