when both of us lived together, we had a favorite teacup that we used to fill to the brim with steaming, heartwarming coffee every morning and our favorite earl grey tea every evening — the same tea that turned cold due to your coming home in the unsuspecting hours of nightfall.
we failed to notice the cracks in the cup that slowly unfurled and seeped into the innocent porcelain like a crawling bramble of thorns choking its newfound plaything. we both took it for granted, unwary of the inevitable we subconsciously wished to delay.
and when it suddenly shattered perhaps because of it being used too much, neither of us expected it nor was able to save it and glue the shattered remains back together.
- 3/20/18