The serene words
stamped and secured
to my tea sachet
cannot console me.
The ink of the inspirationalaffirmation sits ignored,
wet and blurred by either
tears or condensation.
Which one I do not know.
Month: December 2024
Tea
Steam
Burdens
We are strangers, you and I.
Two people only aware
of one another's existence.
Yet I am desperate to tell you
my most awful secrets...
My most shameful
silent sufferings.
Would you like to hear them?
Would you like to help me
carry my burdens?
Disconnected
Your number is still in my phone,
yet I know I'll never call.
At this point it's simply an area code
and seven digits held between a couple
little dashes.
That's all it is.
A series of symbols secured to a dead line.
Yet I still refuse delete it.
I still cannot let you go.
Switchboard
AO Poetry 
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