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.
