---
I pour into your cup
once in a while.
I pour tea,
sometimes coffee.
but I was full of everything.
I had so much to give you,
and you soon felt tired,
even bored with your pocket watch ticking,
even destructive with your bombs ticking.
but I kept on pouring into your cup
once in a while.
because maybe,
when my sugar was finally bitter,
when my coffee was finally sweet,
you'd stop the clock
and disarm the bomb
even if it was just
once in a while.
---
YOU ARE READING
the places i've been to inside
Poetryt h e p l a c e s i ' v e b e e n t o i n s i d e ╰ a compilation of poems ╰ ongoing i am still on my journey. i do not know where this heads to, but it's all inside.
