"breakup" poems
Today in speech
I learned
that May 4th
to September 2nd
is the season
for breakups.
I can't say
it surprised me
to know
that even my heartbreak
was ordinary.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
Quick break-up Senryus.
Pick one to quickly, cut that
relationship cord:
I'm sorry, What'd you say?
I can't hear you (confused look)
- we’re breaking up.
You’re the guy that
every girl at our school wants
- it's their lucky day.
It's time that we took
our relationship to the
previous level.
I still cherish the
initial misconceptions
I had about you.
.
.
Songs for this:
Love on the Rocks by Lizzie Mintz
Lovefool by The Cardigans
Nothing Can Stop Us by Saint Etienne
Forever by X-Cetra
Sep 5, 2025
Sep 5, 2025 at 9:54 PM UTC
This is not a breakup poem
This is not me liquifying when I open my eyes in the morning
This is not my furious animal tearing at my chest to control the thrashing inside
This is not the bile that burns my throat
And this is not the hollow in my abdomen
This is not a breakup poem
This is not your static sobs and back-breaking voice cracks
This is not your acid apology
This is not your deadly uncertainty
And this is not the jagged shards of yourself
This is not a breakup poem
This is not the blood bursting from my scraped elbows and knees
when I went head over heels because you promised you would catch me
This is not my pavement-smacked stinging palms
This is not the gravel in my wounds from when you let go too soon
This is not a breakup poem
This is not your whiskey bottle on the shelf at the foot of my bed,
a gentle reminder that now I have nightmares alone
This is not the toothbrush and the hair gel and the speakers and the things that have more staying power than you
And this is not a breakup poem
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
Break Up Poems
Poems about Breakups. When two people are intimate with each other, this is the highest level that a relationship can reach. Whether or not the breakup is desirable, one thing is for sure, it will make a monumental difference in the lives of the people involved. Poetry about a breakup is likely to contain intense pain, anger, and sadness. In a close relationship, man and woman become like one. When the relationship is dissolved it may feel like your body is being ripped in half.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
It's a lot like the feeling
One of those times
When he'd not text me
Or call me back for a few days
Except,
This time lasts a lot longer
Like a breakup
Except,
Neither one of us specified a
breaking point
I don't want to move on though
'cause
that means I did it without you
And we do everything together.
We go everywhere together
I'll go anywhere with you
And the clouds in your eyes
The sun in your smile
Your meteorite soul
You've got me forever.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
*** and cigarettes and bad decisions stained into bedsheets
A good idea gone rogue in a moment by the chase and retreat
Words bitten off before they emerge and a sudden sense of regret
The ins and outs and turns and twists confined to breakup ***
What feels good can't hurt you until its not good anymore
Reality doesn't touch the bedroom until someone opens the door
Grasping to skin like it's what we had and reluctantly letting go
The push and pull of dumb ideas and a lack of self control.
An awkward smile all the while thinking that this was a mistake
A peck of a kiss, barely a touch of the lips, and sanity far too late
Stains on the skin that the shower can't wash, they've soaked down to bone
The knowledge that gasps and quiet laughs doesn't mean we aren't gone.
*** and cigarettes and bad decisions stained into bedsheets
A good idea gone rogue in a moment by the chase and retreat
Words bitten off before they emerge and a sudden sense of regret
The ins and outs and turns and twist confined to breakup ***
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
Since my breakup
I realized the importance
of threats from debt
wieghing down
a relationship
Since my breakup
I have made a promise
to not have one
monthly obligation
regardless the sacrifice
Since my breakup
I moved in with family
in order to save money
and paid cash for a camper
so I could live, rent free
Since my breakup
I paid cash for a pickup
that easily could last me
the next 20 years to come, not paying one penny to interest
Since my breakup
I have been saving
as much as possible
versus financing
MY AMERICAN DREAM
Since my breakup
I bought a sports car
that was the one to have
when I was in highschool
another goal Im proud of
Since my breakup
I have divided and conquered
all the debts and threats
of monthly obligations
and rearranged my desires
Since my breakup
I have realized what i want
and Im proud to say
I finally purchased
my own piece of land
Since my breakup
I have discovered
my desire to live simple
and my next mission
is to build a home on my land
BUY DIRT
Nov 15, 2021
Nov 15, 2021 at 10:18 PM UTC
Thanks for breaking up with me
Now I finally understand
Why you smoke **** every day
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
i never wanted to kiss her lips,
just hold her hand
maybe kiss her cheeks because she suited a gentler kind of treatment
something softer and more delicate, quiet;
quieter than the constant raging storms inside my stomach,
inside my mind
(never my heart)
those plump lips
she bit them raw when nervous, and they swelled
blossomed ruby as she looked at me
like she knew this wouldn't last
her eyes remained doughy and mellow
when i met her gaze.
my smile stung as it stretched the lines left by winter's bite
and split them open once more.
she brushed the blood beads away with her fingertips
with a touch so reverent that, for a moment, i thought
maybe she felt as though she were touching rosary beads instead,
and i held my breath to stop myself from chasing her
touch, and pressing her down into the mattress
unholy, chasing pleasure.
both agnostic, but she was much more pure than i;
chivalries always in mind, i wanted to preserve that.
there's always been something inside me
that presses down the animalistic urges with
a conscience caught on consideration and something akin to courtly love-
i wanted to woo her before i pursued her
but i never got further than pressing my lips to her forehead,
wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
i laced my fingers with hers but avoided tying any knots.
i am not a man to be bound,
too free-spirit, too restless, too claustrophobic;
a few months in and i was choking on the ghost of a future;
she kissed me first and i suffocated on the phantom of her hopes for us:
a future that didn't yet exist,
and i didn't want it to.
i never kissed her; i never let her kiss me again.
we tangled fingers over the duvet
the television a background noise to our unsteady breaths,
shallower
than my love for her
i enjoyed her quiet affection like one might enjoy curling into a blanket when cold and ill.
i wanted her smiles, i wanted to fill her memories with goodness
so that she never need feel hopeless, like all men are the same
so that she had something to smile about when she looked back on us;
once the bitterness of our breakup had left her mouth-
whenever that eventual end would be-
she could savour the taste of our sweet, slow-burn, love affair
and be reminded that not all love is true love, but nor is all love heart breaking
i broke her heart anyway.
nobody ever taught me how cruel kindness could be.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
You were wailing like a wounded puppy
Your voice was craving for love and sympathy
It appealed to my dormant magnanimity
And thus for you I opened my heart’s door
Least did I know you were an ugly *****
I stood beside you at your one call
Your tantrums, your malice I bore ‘em all.
To make you smile daily became my life’s goal
But you were so thankless it shook me to the core
I should have known earlier, you were an ugly *****
Though my knowledge about love was low
Yet at times I wondered if you really know
so much definitions of it and the metaphors bestowed
then why did your breakup happen once before
perhaps because he too knew, you were an ugly *****
What I thought was your love with glee
Was actually an act of backstabbing me.
You betrayed in the first chance given to thee
Now I shall give you chances no more
Because now I know that you are an ugly *****
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
To all the ************* who don't
Know what is and isn't important
For their own **** good.
A ***** rigid, spiked, smelly
One finger salute for each
And every one of you.
This ************ throws his kids
Out into the streets in November.
Big man of the house who trys so
Desperately to be intimidating,
With a ****** back and a
Horrible stench of alcohol on his breath.
This ************ who thinks she's special.
The stuck up ***** that too closely
Resembles a plump ****** carrot.
Who thinks the perfect guy is a hairless
Fruity smelling mommy's boy *****
With perfect flippy hair and a big ****
This ************ the few, the proud,
The fruity smelling mommy's boy *****
Who wouldn't know a pair of pliers
If they were ripping off his sparkly earrings.
Never having an ounce of dirt on his hands,
But at least she... I mean he has nice teeth.
This ************ that can't tell one honest
Fact about his "hard and lonely" home life.
The one who nods and laughs but just wants to ****
Who beats off to his computer after taking a hit
That he bummed off his rich friends.
Who is confused as to why some people (me) hate him.
This ************ who screws with the emotions
Of one of the best guys ever to glide through her life.
Who throws him on a roller coaster with smiles
And flirtatious giggling while she lets him kiss her.
Then throws him to the side and takes the next in line.
I wish only the very best for you, you ****** *****
Those ************* who abuse, torment
Or play with someone who just wishes the best.
The ones who hurt the vulnerable
To feel better for themselves.
No one deserves the **** you give,
Except each and every one of you.
Honorable mention to those *******
That complain about all men being the same
When in reality they're just searching for
The same type of meat headed ******
Every time they have such a painful terrible
Breakup. Just shut the **** up. For real.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
My new device Samsung Galaxy A7 (6),
I bought it off my own money guys,
And I am so pleased with myself.
It has helped distract me finally,
The breakup will be forgotten now,
Her false love vanished 7 Galaxies away.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC
Indeed
It was a breakup,
‘Cuz I was only for “necking her up”,
‘Cuz I was “dead from neck up”,
Loving her was my greatest blunder,
‘Cuz she played a ***** heart plunder,
Now when I see her
Soft heartbeats become loud thunder,
Hey peeps,
She left me
For other cove,
She theft me
In name of love,
Then
I kept her
In my mind’s blocklist,
Why heft her
Meaningless memories,
Easy say
Hard in action
But I needed a “whole soul checkup”,
Indeed
It was a breakup…..
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 7:10 AM UTC
I crushed it, and it regrew anyways.
The hypothesis, was more romantic,
than tossing and yearning all night
over losing teeth in a giraffe fight.
Your hypothesis, was more romantically
worded, than a thesis on how birds die on impact
when colliding with a glass windowpane,
retrieving teeth lost during a giraffe brawl.
Worded, like the thesis about how birds die during impact,
each line of the letter dripped with invisible ink,
like colliding with a glass window. Pain
is only fleeting, if the end comes close behind.
Every line in each letter, drawn with invisible ink,
doesn't sound in the pronunciation, which
is only fleeting, if the end line draws closed behind.
So close your characters behind you, and don't let the draft in.
Does it not sound in the pronoun, the annulment of which
leaves every thing indefinite, and incomplete.
So clothe your characters before you, so they don't let in a draft,
and catch a cold from ****** or being indistinct.
What leaves everything indefinitely incomplete
other than the ability of the mind to hypothesize,
and catch a cold in the **** state of being extinct?
The inability to reconcile your metaphorical heart and instinct.
The others, they, have the ability to hypothesize,
about what makes us toss and yearn at night.
I forgave your inability to reconcile. My heart: pure instinct.
So you crushed it, and still it grew anyways.
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 8:18 PM UTC
and if i stop, i'll miss the little things:
shaving my legs when i know you're coming over and
not drinking coffee because you don't like the taste of it on my tongue.
i'll miss
running out to your car with my shoes in my hand,
the very last goodnight kiss that's always sweetest.
i'll miss lying to my parents about traffic
and weather
when we were right around the curve of the road,
stealing kisses.
i'll miss
when you don't shave because you know i like your scruffy boy-stubble
when you touch my face without speaking
when your actions
are louder
than words.
i'll miss
your sweetness
i'll miss
your puckish sincerity
i'll miss
you.
i'll miss your hands
your tongue
and your lips on my cheek.
i'll miss you kissing each one of my fingers.
i'll miss our secret handshakes,
our inside jokes,
our petty fights.
i'll miss our song.
i'll miss our arguments about the beatles' breakup,
our railings against religious institutions
our speaking of souls.
and so what i'm proposing,
from me to you,
girl to boy and
heart to heart,
is that you don't stop loving me,
and i
won't stop loving
you.
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
Drifting in the sands of time.
On the search for love most Divine.
Life in the fast lane, can you keep up?
Beauty of life, after a breakup.
She whispered so softly into my heart.
Now it's over for good, where do I start?
Like all things in life this too shall pass.
Now it's time to build something that lasts.
Don't focus on who, when, or where you try.
What's most important is the "why."
If the flesh is what you seek you will fall short.
Money and fame might lead to divorce court.
What you seek is an equal, one on your level.
You need a friend, one for whom you are grateful.
Confidence, humility, patience, and virtue
This is a woman who will never hurt you.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
They may remember my breakup because it kept coming up. Kept coming back. Some may think that my breakup was the thing that hurt the most last year. It wasn’t.
It hurt more to get my heart broken by somebody else.
It hurt more that I had to see her around every time I was around my friends.
It hurt that her name came up everywhere I went, as obscure as it was.
It hurt more that my fondest memories of last year weren’t with my former love, but with her.
It hurt more that I considered my masterpiece of a song to be one about her, and not about my former love.
It hurt more that gazing into her eyes I saw a myriad of puzzles to be solved and a seemingly endless, impossible maze that I wanted to travel in, but never got to.
It hurt more that I bottled these feelings in because I was in a relationship.
It hurt more, the nights I kept up, thinking about what if I gave it just a little more time.
It hurt more to think that maybe I made the wrong decision about who I loved.
It hurt more to rush into love like I did, and miss out on the one thing that may have been better.
It hurt more never to see her again.
It hurt more to forget her smile than my former love.
It hurt more that her laugh was one of the most beautiful sounds that I’ve forgotten.
It hurt more that I stayed up all night thinking more about her than my former love.
It hurt more to know maybe I fell in love with her more than I did my former love.
It hurt more to think about how much it must have hurt my former love to find out.
It hurt more to think how much I took from my former love, and how I threw her away in the end.
It hurt more to use the word threw away instead of broke up in that last sentence.
It hurt more that maybe a part of me still wishes things went differently
It hurt more to feel that wave of anguish to know she didn’t love me back
It hurt more to feel that feeling of defeat to think I tried so hard
It hurt more to feel nothing for my former love, and how guilty I should have felt but didn’t.
It hurt more to realize though, that through all of it, I wasn’t blameless. I had fault.
It hurt more than a thousand papercuts, cutting away, slowly at me. Taking bit by bit of myself.
It hurts most that my break up didn’t hurt me at all. It was her breaking my heart that hurt the most.
It stings now to know
That there’s a part of me that may still love her, wondering if she loved me back.
But now I’ll never know.
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 3:30 AM UTC
i finalised my "divorce" today. well, it was a breakup. 2 years together, lived together, shared our cats, shared a life... all that. so yeah, it felt like a mini divorce.
and i couldn't help but notice how relatable the song "happiness" by taylor swift is now...
_"all the years i've given is just **** we're dividing up"_
he left the house a week ago. today he came by, and divided up our shared things.
_"tell me when did your winning smile_
_began to look like a smirk?_
_when did all our lessons start to look like weapons_
_pointed at my deepest hurt?"_
when i first met him, it was the stuff of fairytales - like most relationships. we shared some of the best memories of our lives together. but like all good things, it came to an end. over time, we became stressed with life's responsibilities. we became toxic to each other, and both made terrible mistakes. towards the end, it became the inevitable to end things.
_"after giving you the best i had_
_tell me what to give after that?"_
i gave it my all. we both tried our best. it just wasn't meant to be.
_"haunted by the look in my eyes_
_that would've loved you for a lifetime"_
how i wished he was the one... given any chance, i would've loved him for a lifetime. i miss him. i miss the life we shared. i grieve for the future we will never have.
_"i can't make it go away by making you a villian"_
but just because the relationship failed, it was still extraordinarily beautiful. i hold zero resentment towards him at all. no negative feelings. i wish him all the best in the future.
_"no one teaches you what to do_
_when a good man hurts you_
_and you know you hurt him too"_
these lyrics hit me the most...
_"there'll be happiness after you_
_but there was happiness because of you"_
goodbye, lover. maybe in another lifetime, our paths will cross again. but for now, i wish you all the happiness in the world. i will always have love for you deep in my heart.
Dec 20, 2022
Dec 20, 2022 at 11:23 AM UTC
When my mom first thought that I was gay,
She and my father sat me down at the kitchen table.
I was fifteen and thought I was in love,
And all they could do was scream at me...
‘You’re a sin; what you feel isn’t natural.’
‘Where did we go wrong?’
And all I had wanted was to love in peace.
But apparently, that was too much to ask from them.
So I stifled myself.
I cut myself off from her and let us wither
Until there was nothing left of us because
I wasn't normal
And I was fifteen
And all I wanted was my mother’s approval
And how could I gain that if I wasn’t normal?
And then I was sixteen and I thought I was in love again
But this time with a seventeen-year-old boy
That knew nothing of love
And everything of sharp edges and even sharper words
But he spoke so pretty to me,
And how could I resist?
But he hurt me worse than anyone else that I’ve known
And he never even cared…
And then I was seventeen.
I was seventeen and my best friend had this mane
Of beautiful hair and I called her lovely and wife
And all the other silly little pet names that high school girls do
But little did she know that her smile
Lit fireworks inside my brain and the swarms of
Butterflies that beat in my chest rivalled that of a drum.
I thought she was beautiful.
I saw the universe in her.
But how could I admit that to myself without admitting it to
My mother, the one person whose validation I crave like
Air and water and life itself?
How could I admit to her that I wasn’t
Her little girl anymore?
That I was a disappointment?
And then I was eighteen.
I was eighteen and numb and not looking for anything when he found me...
I was eighteen and I thought that surely,
Surely
This was it, this was the feeling that I was waiting for.
But it wasn’t and I was eighteen and alone again
But this hurt worse than the others and then I was gone after that summer.
Now, I’m almost nineteen.
I’m almost nineteen and I’ve accepted the fact that
I will disappoint my mother;
The one whose opinion that I value the most;
The one that gave birth to me;
The only one that can tear me down until I feel like nothing.
But she’s my mother so how could I let her go
When she was there for my first word and my first steps
And every one of my other firsts.
My first date.
My first dance.
My first breakup.
She was there when I left for college, and she’ll be there when (if)
I get married.
Because regardless of my choices,
She loves me, and she always will.
And even if I can’t bring my partner home,
I will love her all the same.
So mom, if you see this,
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that I didn’t turn out how you wanted.
I’m sorry that I disappointed you.
But I’m not sorry for being who I am.
I’m not sorry for thinking women are beautiful
And men are handsome
Because all the world needs is a little bit more love,
And who am I to deprive it of that?
Mar 15, 2022
Mar 15, 2022 at 11:26 PM UTC
The amount of days I've been given have been kind, but each day rather cruel
Trying to lift the thumb off my back of the looming stresses that rule
It could be me again and this is not the end, if fact it probably is
So before I unleash my problems, swear to mind your business
I would be lying if I said I wanted this day to last a forever
Because I found myself one forever short once we weren't together
I've said my piece so many times the puzzle is almost complete
So I've decided it's time to get off my knees and back onto my feet
I've fallen so much I keep Flintstones band-aids close at hand
My heart sewn to my sleeve for only you, which I've yet to understand
You unscrewed the machine that was me and left the parts on the floor
And I'm pretty sure I won't work just right anymore
Fading is the dynasty of what we labeled our so-called "love"
Like sticking my foot inside my sock at night to find it's a glove
The discombobulation is so overwhelming, I think the ocean is jealous
Could I start swimming now or is that being too over-zealous
Life is hard and the people crammed in it tend to make it worse
At times I tell myself it to cry, look to the sky, and curse
But there's a tune in my mind that won't seem to shut up from that one song
Telling me life is a ride, kid: grieve, learn, burn, and move on
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 11:33 PM UTC
Each individual jelly-belly
jellybean in a clear bag
tied with a red wire
is so different from each
other individual jelly-belly
jellybean in that clear bag.
The one that I find,
without fail,
without fault,
is always the one that
tastes like black licorice.
The sticky, overly sweet,
bitter black gunk that junks
up my perfectly good bag
of jelly-belly jellybeans,
and I am never paying
enough attention
to catch myself
before I pop it
into my mouth,
unaware that I will be
receiving: not cotton candy,
not coconut, nor cherry or lime,
but a black piece of bitter-sweetness,
whose taste always seems to linger.
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 3:18 PM UTC
Breakup Letter to Route 34
Everyday you and me me and you we'd punch out for an hour, maybe two
Only separated by obsidian rubber our toes kissed as the clock ticked
Just a pair of bodies and the aqua sky
the clouds will be our blanket as we sleep through the ride
We didn’t even need the stars to be our guide, just the yellow line.
The string connecting the seams of my double life
Every year I watched your colors change I watched the buildings rearrange I watched people I loved become estranged
But you, good old road, you stayed the same.
Like an invisible diary I scratched my thoughts into your black skin, wrinkling with erosion
And I shed my tears into your core, watering the tufts of grass protruding through your cracks
And I whispered my secrets to you, to the barren bark lining your lanes.
I have always been holy to you! but it seems like soon we won’t be seeing each other every day at four and noon.
O, But don’t let your dam release too many drops from your lagoon
I have blazed your path for too long, I need sometime new
And just remember, good old road, its me- not you
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
What I have can’t be fixed by a doctor
How do you tell someone
“I don’t know where it hurts”
Or more accurately
“It hurts everywhere; where should I being?”
Because how do you tell someone that the pain of inadequacy
Mirrors a blow to the head in its intensity
But far surpasses it when it comes to longevity
And as far as timing is concerned
Every watch I’ve ever had has broken
So how do you tell someone that the lies are never easy
But the ones you tell to yourself crash over you like waves
And drag a small portion of you away each time they recede
It’s like a game of Them vs. Me
And what makes the defeats unbearable
Is the fact that they don’t even know they’re playing
I’ve been keeping score
And keeping score
And keeping score
The walls are filled with white lines
One
Two
Three
Four
Slash
Maybe if I point to my chest and say, “Here”
Someone will understand
It’s a pain that feels like everything I’ve ever wished for
Has solidified and turned to stone
Making a home somewhere in my ribcage
And it’s expanding
I write bravery on my skin because I have none
I make deals with a god I know doesn’t exist
Just so when I’m unable to hold up my end of the bargain
I have someone to blame for falling through on his
And I still can’t figure out if it’s funny or sad
That the only man I want to kiss me never will
And the last one who did traded in his lips for his hand
So he can high-five me like we’re friends on the same team
Never making mention that we kissed on the floor of his room
Until we were breathless
While breakup songs played in the background
Taking up just as much space as we did
Became witness to our nervous hands fumbling over each other’s bodies
Turning our kiss into a *********
I have heard that silence speaks just as loudly as words
But silence builds up in my mouth like a traffic jam
And my jaw is begging to break from the weight
So maybe now’s the time to scream
Time to shout
Because I've been keeping all my thoughts filed away
Under the title, “When The Time Is Right”
But there’s no time like tonight
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
I asked myself over a warm cup of tea, "what kind of beauty is there in finding mystery in yourself?"
I took a little sip, and had more thoughts.
And so I scribbled, a few words on a piece of paper.
a fine day indeed to be playing Thelonious Monk,
one of my favorite Jazz pianists.
y'know, his music has a certain type of soul to it, something inviting about it. I dunno.
with that cup of tea still in hand, I listened to the ocean dance while Monk rushed over the piano keys.
that cup of tea smelled like years of fear and peace to come.
that cup of tea reminded me of the first time I burnt my finger with a candle when I was still a kid.
that cup of tea reminded me of my first love.
it reminded me that I'm still 17, it also tasted like conversations I had with friends about girls we'd never have.
"that girl. she's the one, you'd probably have a chance with her. say something, you shy mo'fo."
but then again it wasn't about probability.
it tasted like 5AM in the morning after your first breakup.
it tasted like 4PM when you wrote your first poem.
it tasted like bitterness.
the tea tasted like my love for things that have aged.
'65 Mustangs and inked pages.
ripped jeans and new faces.
jazz music and new places.
its funny what tea can do one's mind once it burns your tongue and runs down your oesophagus to warm your lungs.
Monk's music in the background, I still scribbled words on a piece of paper.
if only this moment could linger.
cup of tea, cup of tea, what type of flavor did you leave in me?
see, when i stare at this cup, it seems as if it holds unneccessary emptiness.
but can still hold my deepest desires in liquid form - a warm cup of tea.
I probably wrote all of this after I burnt my tongue with tea.
but then again, this isn't about probability.
this is from the deep of things, with love.
sincurlyxbaki
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 7:46 AM UTC