The outside of the China teacup, Chipped and cracked but still standing up, Straight Vines wrap round the China glass like hands wrap round my throat Bottom bears coffee stains and teabag remains, like a sad girl who bears her scars Brim has a special need for a lips touch like a middle schooler has for lunch
Today, It holds a special type of poison The type of poison that hurts before you drink it The type of poison that isnβt really poison poison But the type of poison that you pour inside me and the sad thing is is that I love your poison And Iβll drink your poison everyday until you stop giving me poison to drink