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#cider
I love Christmas. How the snow softly falls, the togetherness of family and the joy of that day that comes around once a year. The presents under the tree. The glowing lights on houses and trees, lights decorating the eaves, and little blow up Santa's in the yards of peoples houses. I like to think of Christmas as a day that brings joy and happiness. Where the world is less gloomy and grey. Where you can see the children's happy smiles and the glow of their faces as they see what's under the tree. I love Christmas the smell of hot cocoa, apple cider, and the faint smell of pine drifting in the breeze. The Christmas lights strewn all around blinking and adding just enough joy to the day. On cold days where I can play in the snow throw snowballs and make snowmen with each snowflake that falls. I love Christmas the best holiday of all.
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Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 6:25 PM UTC
the best holiday of all
Can we linger here For a while Laying in bed And listening to the rain song On the roof? The comforter a shield From the sharp cold around us And the smell of old books Wafting through the air The falling leaves a jigsaw We can put together In shades of red I’ll bring you apple cider -your favorite fall drink While I’ll have something Probably with a tinge of pumpkin spice When the sun goes to rest And the rain carries on We’ll drift off on the melody Of the ever changing chorus Above us It’s lovely To lay here With you
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Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 12:56 AM UTC
In Shades of Red
it seems my entire life is defined by drinks. mother's milk out the womb. (and maybe those suckles were sweet - it's not like i remember - but her words, for the rest of my life, certainly weren't.) an hour-long debate, with my best friend at twelve years old - apple or orange juice? (orange, obviously, is the right answer. we rehash the argument sometimes to this day.) the day i turn 19, a beer in my hands. (i'm sat around a campfire with my closest friends, birthdays all older than me - the beer tastes disgusting, as cheap alcohol is, but i'm glad to be there.) yesterday, i had 1 coffee and 2 mugs of lemon honey tea, 4 glasses of water. today, no tea, but 2 cups of coffee, a glass of milk, and 3 glasses of water. i bite at my nails when i'm nervous, swallow down the spit that comes with it, the bile that rises. last summer, i visited pei, had a raspberry cordial - my favourite drink to date - then bought a case of 4 more to take home with me. last summer, when i lived in new brunswick, my friends in the same building knew me as the one who would always have a drink in hand - a milk tea, or maybe a pink lemonade, maybe that obscure korean soda i liked. when i left new brunswick, i took a photo of my 2 trash cans, of the way they were both filled to the brim with empty bottles and cans and jugs. i still miss the apple cider they made there. my life is defined by drinks, sips, swallows, taking five minutes to breathe by making myself a nice whipped coffee, trawling the internet for pretty coasters and glassware for an hour in lieu of doing actual work. Eventually, i close the shopping tabs, take a sip of coffee, and resume with the rest of my life.
0
Nov 5, 2023
Nov 5, 2023 at 7:38 PM UTC
take a sip
it seems my entire life is defined by drinks. mother's milk out the womb. (and maybe those suckles were sweet - it's not like i remember - but her words, for the rest of my life, certainly weren't.) an hour-long debate, with my best friend at twelve years old - apple or orange juice? (orange, obviously, is the right answer. we rehash the argument sometimes to this day.) the day i turn 19, a beer in my hands. (i'm sat around a campfire with my closest friends, birthdays all older than me - the beer tastes disgusting, as cheap alcohol is, but i'm glad to be there.) yesterday, i had 1 coffee and 2 mugs of lemon honey tea, 4 glasses of water. today, no tea, but 2 cups of coffee, a glass of milk, and 3 glasses of water. i bite at my nails when i'm nervous, swallow down the spit that comes with it, the bile that rises. last summer, i visited pei, had a raspberry cordial - my favourite drink to date - then bought a case of 4 more to take home with me. last summer, when i lived in new brunswick, my friends in the same building knew me as the one who would always have a drink in hand - a milk tea, or maybe a pink lemonade, maybe that obscure korean soda i liked. when i left new brunswick, i took a photo of my 2 trash cans, of the way they were both filled to the brim with empty bottles and cans and jugs. i still miss the apple cider they made there. my life is defined by drinks, sips, swallows, taking five minutes to breathe by making myself a nice whipped coffee, trawling the internet for pretty coasters and glassware for an hour in lieu of doing actual work. Eventually, i close the shopping tabs, take a sip of coffee, and resume with the rest of my life.
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16
Help yourselves dear poets if you have fever use filtered martinelly apple juice or any brand you got dilude it with water a glass every hour it has boron it heals cutting fevers fast I used in my children tylenol can harm liver. ~~~~~~ for the stronger health users go organic carrot and (beat juice- -optional) if you only want water distiled is best one gallon add 20 drops of oregano leaf oil and only drink this is antiviral. fir one day or two ~~~~~~ If you tolerate take on raw garlic two or more Clove's blend them in filtered, or boiled or distilled water or even Gatorade electrolyte or smart water add cayenne pepper or any hot peppers you have like cayenne it's good for heart ( no halapeños they irritate intestinal lining ) add sea salt to taste cilantro if you have add two yellow lemon juices freshly squeezed one hole mandarine or small organic orange add ginger root fresh a finger size slice add turmeric fresh root you have apple cider vinegar with the mother in add some one tablespoon optional add multivitamin mineral and vitamin C ascorvic acid 8f no lemon available. if you feel anxiety check thyroid it controls brain chemicals add a thyroid supplement vitamin to shake open capsule and blend all these and drink five onces every 3 hours. it's anti virulent immune system booster 200 mg of vitamin B complex nightly in powder form will stop your restless leg syndroms help nerves and good sleep add but D3 If you dear find milk thistle it heals detox liver tastes great open one or two capsules in glass of water I drink this daily. ~~~~~ Stay blessed all poets visitors friends you are much loved. by Karijinbba
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Mar 15, 2020
Mar 15, 2020 at 4:32 PM UTC
Eddited Antiviricidal Blend it
Help yourselves dear poets if you have fever use filtered martinelly apple juice or any brand you got dilude it with water a glass every hour it has boron it heals cutting fevers fast I used in my children tylenol can harm liver. ~~~~~~ for the stronger health users go organic carrot and (beat juice- -optional) if you only want water distiled is best one gallon add 20 drops of oregano leaf oil and only drink this is antiviral. fir one day or two ~~~~~~ If you tolerate take on raw garlic two or more Clove's blend them in filtered, or boiled or distilled water or even Gatorade electrolyte or smart water add cayenne pepper or any hot peppers you have like cayenne it's good for heart ( no halapeños they irritate intestinal lining ) add sea salt to taste cilantro if you have add two yellow lemon juices freshly squeezed one hole mandarine or small organic orange add ginger root fresh a finger size slice add turmeric fresh root you have apple cider vinegar with the mother in add some one tablespoon optional add multivitamin mineral and vitamin C ascorvic acid 8f no lemon available. if you feel anxiety check thyroid it controls brain chemicals add a thyroid supplement vitamin to shake open capsule and blend all these and drink five onces every 3 hours. it's anti virulent immune system booster 200 mg of vitamin B complex nightly in powder form will stop your restless leg syndroms help nerves and good sleep add but D3 If you dear find milk thistle it heals detox liver tastes great open one or two capsules in glass of water I drink this daily. ~~~~~ Stay blessed all poets visitors friends you are much loved. by Karijinbba
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29
Evergreen stands still at the hearth. Roaring red fire, life, love and mirth. Laughter and joy. Cider's sweet mash. Dull fire's embers; glowing orange ash. We retreat to our beds, nestled and warm, and dream of the morning when the Christ child was born. Lights festooned, on the bushes outside; filter in through the window, glimmer and shine. We long for the hour when we flock to the tree. Peppermint, tinsel, ribbons, and glee.
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Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 11:51 AM UTC
Christmas
The winds of change are coming soon. You can already see them starting to affect the moon. The winds of change make the days shorter and nights colder. Not that that's a bad thing. It can make people want to be closer than shoulder to shoulder. To the trees, the winds of change are like school bus drivers. the breeze carries their leaves away, drops them safely on the ground, then returns them bright and new when spring rolls back around. Change can be scary. But not all change is bad. Just think of the pumpkins and cider and good times to be had.
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Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 9:43 PM UTC
Winds of change
Fall is for color Bounty and splendor Spring is renewal But fall toasts The future Nature’s own blossoming In earth tones that Shatter the rainbow With rock solid Treasure to last The year Harvest ***** October fests Foodie’s delight Magnificent moments For taste buds In sight Fall holds a promise Crisp air to breathe That cleanses the lungs And erases the lethargy Of summer’s heat Thanksgiving to all Mother Nature raises Her glass Mulled cider and cinnamon Roast turkey and corn Remember the season Of color and bounty Remember fall Throughout The year
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
Fall
We drank cider And filled our faces With cheesecake that tasted Almost as tangy as the blood That fizzed through (and out) of my veins As a consequence of you. And I thought to myself, The sunlight will always be golden But I will never again smell cigarette smoke And think of anyone other than you With your stupid hyperbolic smile And if I can't see the way eight pm Looks beneath your lashes Or the way the summer hours Turn your hair into auburn fire Then I may as well bury my eyes In the soil that hasn't yet Managed to kiss your feet.
0
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:03 PM UTC
Relapsing into you
Licking the cider off my ice cubes I'm in love with words And the sights of you which I've yet to see
0
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
InFlunce
Doctor Larch peers out the window, Pulling aside brocaded curtains to hide The grief that he will not show, The rending emptiness he feels inside. As his son Homer rides past the sunset, Not knowing where he goes But aspiring to see the wide world, The ocean at Mount Desert, Seeing wonder in the expanse And worlds inside a circle of glass. He has taken with him his heart, A dark picture of frailty. He finds unexpected work in an orchard, Leisurely harvesting round, garnet jewels. The nomads, dark and wary, Ask him to read about death and stars. There are rules for the workers. And Homer finds that they apply To no one, neither nomads or Curious young men. He sees in the errant father The reflection of his own, The man who made him good. “You are my work of art” He wrote. Like an artist with his painting, Who resists giving it away, So Doctor Larch holds on to him Hoping his adolescence ends And he returns. Finding peace at the last. The lack of rules bring about a sea change, Allowing forbidden love and pain. He ventures out once more into the vacuum Of conscience set free, He devises his own rules about the womb And how to help those in agony But eventually… With all the rules now open, There is nothing left for him to do. So he boards the migrant truck Just as the pilot returns, broken. He watches the struggle with a wheelchair Sees his lover watch him with her yellow hair Knows her future, years of sacrifice. And he admits at last That he has a purpose, The train to St. Cloud huffs slowly away, With Homer standing in the wet snow. There is the old asylum, The orphanage and home on the hill, Almost black, with the sunset behind, Homer begins the long climb. He approaches slowly. But then, a burst of laughter And children from the door Flock around him, dancing, shrieking, Some holding him like an errant dog, Who must be told to stay. “Will you stay?” they ask. “I think so,” he smiles in irony. He is home at the last.
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
Leaving St. Cloud
Doctor Larch peers out the window, Pulling aside brocaded curtains to hide The grief that he will not show, The rending emptiness he feels inside. As his son Homer rides past the sunset, Not knowing where he goes But aspiring to see the wide world, The ocean at Mount Desert, Seeing wonder in the expanse And worlds inside a circle of glass. He has taken with him his heart, A dark picture of frailty. He finds unexpected work in an orchard, Leisurely harvesting round, garnet jewels. The nomads, dark and wary, Ask him to read about death and stars. There are rules for the workers. And Homer finds that they apply To no one, neither nomads or Curious young men. He sees in the errant father The reflection of his own, The man who made him good. “You are my work of art” He wrote. Like an artist with his painting, Who resists giving it away, So Doctor Larch holds on to him Hoping his adolescence ends And he returns. Finding peace at the last. The lack of rules bring about a sea change, Allowing forbidden love and pain. He ventures out once more into the vacuum Of conscience set free, He devises his own rules about the womb And how to help those in agony But eventually… With all the rules now open, There is nothing left for him to do. So he boards the migrant truck Just as the pilot returns, broken. He watches the struggle with a wheelchair Sees his lover watch him with her yellow hair Knows her future, years of sacrifice. And he admits at last That he has a purpose, The train to St. Cloud huffs slowly away, With Homer standing in the wet snow. There is the old asylum, The orphanage and home on the hill, Almost black, with the sunset behind, Homer begins the long climb. He approaches slowly. But then, a burst of laughter And children from the door Flock around him, dancing, shrieking, Some holding him like an errant dog, Who must be told to stay. “Will you stay?” they ask. “I think so,” he smiles in irony. He is home at the last.
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62
i walked past the wine aisle today pretending to be grown up as i saw rows upon rose and expensive wines infused with notes of exotic fruits and smooth whiskeys, cool beers and cheap ***** i almost walked right past it a blur of artificial pink and green in the corner of my eye i had the sudden urge to linger for a little bit longer on that strawberry and lime cider. "hey you'll like this" you offered me a sip of your cup and suddenly i was hooked it's too easy to imagine the exact taste as it bubbles on my tongue, tingling, and making it's way down my parched throat easy to swallow and a delight going down especially perfect during a night out in town though it will never quite taste as lovely as when i sipped it from your lips sweeter than sweet a sensation reminiscent of, swirling, dancing twirling along my tongue, the most heavenly cocktail of you and my new favourite drink and suddenly, strawberries in season, remind me of you as you held me close and we missed the sun rise limes suddenly remind me of you as you let go and left only sourness behind i never liked cider until you brought the taste to my lips and suddenly, i wanted to drown in it but then you taught me, that like most alcohol it's best served cold with eyes that look past me and frozen strawberries a fizzy concoction of regret and enjoyment and longing and excitement and regret hard spirits and expensive liquor just cannot compare to the sweet and sour high from a bottle of strawberry and lime but imagine my surprise the first time after you left when i discovered that suddenly even something so pleasant could have such a bitter aftertaste and i'm left wondering how much longer will your memory cling to a branded bottle of my old favourite drink.
0
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
strawberry and lime cider
i walked past the wine aisle today pretending to be grown up as i saw rows upon rose and expensive wines infused with notes of exotic fruits and smooth whiskeys, cool beers and cheap ***** i almost walked right past it a blur of artificial pink and green in the corner of my eye i had the sudden urge to linger for a little bit longer on that strawberry and lime cider. "hey you'll like this" you offered me a sip of your cup and suddenly i was hooked it's too easy to imagine the exact taste as it bubbles on my tongue, tingling, and making it's way down my parched throat easy to swallow and a delight going down especially perfect during a night out in town though it will never quite taste as lovely as when i sipped it from your lips sweeter than sweet a sensation reminiscent of, swirling, dancing twirling along my tongue, the most heavenly cocktail of you and my new favourite drink and suddenly, strawberries in season, remind me of you as you held me close and we missed the sun rise limes suddenly remind me of you as you let go and left only sourness behind i never liked cider until you brought the taste to my lips and suddenly, i wanted to drown in it but then you taught me, that like most alcohol it's best served cold with eyes that look past me and frozen strawberries a fizzy concoction of regret and enjoyment and longing and excitement and regret hard spirits and expensive liquor just cannot compare to the sweet and sour high from a bottle of strawberry and lime but imagine my surprise the first time after you left when i discovered that suddenly even something so pleasant could have such a bitter aftertaste and i'm left wondering how much longer will your memory cling to a branded bottle of my old favourite drink.
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81
I am like cider Well preserved Always available and warm Though only appreciated in the fall Or at least so I feel Slightly fermented
0
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 11:29 PM UTC
Like Cider
0
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 3:01 PM UTC
Untitled
I've had enough and my heads a spinning I feel so merry and I cant stop grinning But my faithful friend he calls me back My ever reliable Scrumpy Jack
0
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
Cider
A cider and a minder Passing time as a reminder Pink glow and songs flow A waxy time erodes the mow Renegades and perspiration responds Swimming in winded seas of  Jordan Heated in space, evicted in their pace Libido fails as the liquor dilutes in taste Catch an esse as the moonlight smite Hold another to fake a romantic right Filter to the cards of ace as the one winks Emotive intruders farm in fields of pastures Imbued with alcoholic waterfalls Molehills of termites condense lose soil A lack of connection a taunt that apes Future anthems triumph in hungered strums Amused by the music erupting volcanoes A morrow blows as the candle slows To tow the tall grassed disused straw A spring to summer that promises sun rays A resolve to moderation to preserve modesty A kiss stored forever peeping the awing stars To guard a heart and hatch uniformity Trembles justly forgotten in termed premises
0
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
A Cider My Minder
Happened to me on a street corner on either a late night or an early morning. It took a wallet full of cider, a charity of spirits, a shared packet of ****** and the smell of glue. Not the cheap stuff, the glue for models, and they look alright, right? right man? The night left me outside my head, with my thoughts, I had a handful of anti-headaches. We nearly bled out last time we admitted all our mistakes, my friend, who always ends a night with a head on my shoulder, snotting up my collar, hiccuping up frag grenades, **** and apologies.
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Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
Something that felt like love
A reticent fox slinks by beneath the trees that still have leaves conversing for now the change in colors sleeps still, unannounced the rain smells of ploughed earth & freshly hung-out clouds & wellington boots Autumn's child cries it's first word & inside a low-lit pub a crisp old cider's poured September's dreams fermenting
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
September in the Country
A cuckoo sings its first spring voice The cider maker cracks his cork on this year’s choice English apples presented from pre years press Picked and selected to impress Bottled and ready for drinkers wide and far Vision distorting with every jar From orchards up and down the land Drinkers search the best in town Scrumpy be the drinkers rot Weak willed should try it not A test once tasted of a brewers fare An enjoyment discovered but just take care For once you have past the half way mark You’ll soon be singing and dancing with the larks
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Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
Visiting the lark
Finally it is done. For months I have been collecting ingredients for the magical elixir - home grown ginger and rosemary, fresh organic garlic, onions and lemon, finely chopped jalapeno pepper, powdered turmeric, Ceylon cinnamon, tulsi, kelp and black pepper. What eluded me was the pungent, fresh horseradish, unexpectedly absent in our stores and farmers markets, until a birthday trip to New York, when we found the massive roots in a Russian market. And, once properly chopped and shredded and zested, all is covered and bathed in organic apple cider vinegar, a superfood in itself, where it will draw out the healing constituents of each vital ingredient, creating a powerhouse of wellness. And now we wait. Four to eight weeks of shaking the jars every day before we drain the lot, run the pulp through a juice extractor and add the final touch ... local honey, raw and unfiltered, adding sweetness and its own preserving power, along with a strong boost to health. A long time to wait for this Nectar of the Gods, but so very worth it: a shot of this each day and colds and flu stand no chance - bacteria and virus alike overwhelmed - say goodbye to illness. Let us now give thanks to our grandmothers and all the lay herbalists of generations long past, for through their efforts, our own knowledge is greatly enriched. We stand on the shoulders of giants. 5July2015
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Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 9:19 PM UTC
Fire Cider
there's seven steps to the making and drinking hot cocoa process. prepping: grab the mug, make sure you use tap water, grab the hot chocolate and spoon and begin the process down below step one: pour the tap water into your mug, nearing to the top of the mug and place it in the microwave STEP ONE: you're scrolling on facebook and you see the most handsome man you've ever seen and you automatically hit the friend button and start messaging him. he responds back, almost as quickly. step two: press the general two minutes into your microwave and "patiently" wait for your hot chocolate STEP TWO: you've been talking to her for a good month online now, you both mutually decide to meet up and instantaneously become very close. you start dating him. step three: take out the flaming hot mug of water and proceed to put it on the counter. grabbing the spoon, put two to four spoonfuls of hot chocolate mix into the mug. begin to stir until there are not any "chocolate dust bunnies" floating around, dissolved. STEP THREE: a month into the relationship, you're both very much in love. you've had your fourth kiss recently-but who's counting? step four: immediately go to a comfy spot near you, pull up YouTube and watch people sexually assault women on the street and pass it off as a prank. as you are giggling along, take a sip of your dri-gasp! ouch, that really hurt. STEP FOUR: three months in. he takes your virginity. it really hurt. you weren't ready but you didn't want to disappoint him. step five: continue slowly drinking your hot chocolate, it's good to savor it. you notice it starts to get cold. you swish it around in your mouth and let it rest for a minute... it doesn't taste like hot chocolate anymore. it's cold, bitter and the mix from the bottom is floating around giving it the taste of dirt. STEP FIVE: five months in. he started hitting you two weeks and three days ago. you said you wanted to stop having *** so often because it hurt and you weren't having a good time anymore. he said, "you're asking for it, looking so **** hot all of the time" and proceeds to force himself on you for the first time. step six: you decide, **** this, im done with my hot chocolate and begin to wash it out in your sink. STEP SIX: seven months in. you break up with him, he tells you he's sorry and you get back together with him. this has been a reoccurring pattern for a month now. but this time, you're done, for good. and turns out, you are. step seven: you finish off cleaning the mug and spoon that was used to mix the powder and the weight on your shoulders is free. no more ****** cold hot chocolate for you. STEP SEVEN: you are free, out of a treacherous relationship. "you were too good for him" your friends tell you, "he's disgusting and wasn't even that attractive". you feel unwanted, until one day you see someone staring at you while you're walking into a coffee shop. you begin to get creeped out after an hour and go to talk to him. you exchange numbers with this older man. step one on: the process of making and drinking apple cider.
0
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
the process of making and drinking hot chocolate
there's seven steps to the making and drinking hot cocoa process. prepping: grab the mug, make sure you use tap water, grab the hot chocolate and spoon and begin the process down below step one: pour the tap water into your mug, nearing to the top of the mug and place it in the microwave STEP ONE: you're scrolling on facebook and you see the most handsome man you've ever seen and you automatically hit the friend button and start messaging him. he responds back, almost as quickly. step two: press the general two minutes into your microwave and "patiently" wait for your hot chocolate STEP TWO: you've been talking to her for a good month online now, you both mutually decide to meet up and instantaneously become very close. you start dating him. step three: take out the flaming hot mug of water and proceed to put it on the counter. grabbing the spoon, put two to four spoonfuls of hot chocolate mix into the mug. begin to stir until there are not any "chocolate dust bunnies" floating around, dissolved. STEP THREE: a month into the relationship, you're both very much in love. you've had your fourth kiss recently-but who's counting? step four: immediately go to a comfy spot near you, pull up YouTube and watch people sexually assault women on the street and pass it off as a prank. as you are giggling along, take a sip of your dri-gasp! ouch, that really hurt. STEP FOUR: three months in. he takes your virginity. it really hurt. you weren't ready but you didn't want to disappoint him. step five: continue slowly drinking your hot chocolate, it's good to savor it. you notice it starts to get cold. you swish it around in your mouth and let it rest for a minute... it doesn't taste like hot chocolate anymore. it's cold, bitter and the mix from the bottom is floating around giving it the taste of dirt. STEP FIVE: five months in. he started hitting you two weeks and three days ago. you said you wanted to stop having *** so often because it hurt and you weren't having a good time anymore. he said, "you're asking for it, looking so **** hot all of the time" and proceeds to force himself on you for the first time. step six: you decide, **** this, im done with my hot chocolate and begin to wash it out in your sink. STEP SIX: seven months in. you break up with him, he tells you he's sorry and you get back together with him. this has been a reoccurring pattern for a month now. but this time, you're done, for good. and turns out, you are. step seven: you finish off cleaning the mug and spoon that was used to mix the powder and the weight on your shoulders is free. no more ****** cold hot chocolate for you. STEP SEVEN: you are free, out of a treacherous relationship. "you were too good for him" your friends tell you, "he's disgusting and wasn't even that attractive". you feel unwanted, until one day you see someone staring at you while you're walking into a coffee shop. you begin to get creeped out after an hour and go to talk to him. you exchange numbers with this older man. step one on: the process of making and drinking apple cider.
Continue reading...
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