The Tea: Spilt and Bitter
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The Tea ~ A Collection of Rants & Poems
As long as I can remember, life has always seemed sort of poetic to me:
Walking home down a street that looks empty, maybe sad- a look on your face that hints at your deepest thoughts of the day.
Talking to a stranger that you've never met before and getting really good advice out of nowhere.
Sipping terrible tea that ends up tasting more like a mix of leaves and butt than anything soothing, so you spill it all over the carpet.
It's all sort of poetry, ya know? Just a simultaneous mix of feelings and experiences that unexpectedly end up almost beautiful. It's whatever you're feeling, ugly or nice. It's just going through life. Art is undeniably everywhere; I suppose for me it's writing down (or typing out) all the things that I never got to say.
Spilling the beans, so to speak.
Although spilt tea would make a lot more sense in this instance. Bitter, butt-tea.
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