I'll sip my green tea, steaming,
Every sip burning my lips,

but the pain doesn't reach my soul.

For that was lost long ago, in boxes stacked high in the attic.

I could spend a day trying to find it, and i'm sure it would appear,

in the box labeled "past lovers", who no longer are here.

I could spend a day sewing it back together, until it felt just right,

but the fabric would still be loose and the warmth it once brought is no longer here,

for that is in the letter, titled "my dear".

I could spend a day injecting it into me and feel the high your presence once brought

but you lost that privilege the day you walked out on me.

I could spend a day tracking you down just so I could find my happiness that you hold hostage

but moving is so hard since you left.

I could spend a day begging you to let my poisoned heart go

but  you would laugh and send me on my way

for I was nothing more than the bug you killed on our first date.

I could spend a day listening to our song hoping to find any clues of why you left me stranded

with nothing but a box of tea and dead roses.

I could spend a day trying to take off the ring you gave me the night i told you "i love you"

but its still holding on to any remaining hope that you might turn around and remember all those things you said long ago.

I could spend a day saying nothing at all but just sitting and remembering that night at the bar.

I could spend a day crying until my room became the ocean which upon I would sail away,

but i'm too scared the hurricane
named after you would crush my tiny ship named hope

and I would be stranded on the island of lonely & depression.

I could do all these things until a year flew by, and the hope that you would remember would still be standing strong.

I could beg, dig and cry and all the things I could do to win back you

but you would't give me a glance for I'm just the girl who was stuck in pretend.

I'm just the girl, that you once loved, but you can't even remember all the years we spent,

but here I am, drinking my tea, and ever word you said is pressed into me as if I am a newspaper, for the lost and lonely.

I sip my green tea, burning my lips. reminding me of you and your cruel intent.