Teacup

It was only when I
rested a teacup
to my lips that I felt
the earth 'neath my feet

it was dry and
thirsty like my mind
that was swaying
over my chest, confined
in an antique bird cage.

My thoughts were shaped
in circles, spheres -
the world? or nothing
but rusting bars

abstracted in feeble
attempts to escape you
yet, vines strangled sunlight
and the nothing I now
wore 'round my wrist.

It was only when
my coffee retreated like tide
that I saw the
white china was speckled
with water colour,

my hands had smudged
your handy work,
chipping an old mauve
flower or two
and it was then I
realized I was
beginning to hate you
and all that you
saw as beauty..

the way you longed
to depict the sky as a
Starry night, emotions
as The Scream and
the life of two
Persecuted Lovers.

You wore me
'round your wrist
and they asked me why
I believed in you but
the truth was ..
I never did.

`Written for an M&M challenge. Thanks Jenn.