I’m afraid your touch will burn me like a splash of boiling water that I never meant to come in contact with. I always hoped that you would stay safely within the confines of my teacup; so i steeped your love and then avoided it until it was too cold to drink. You were never created for a teacup, but I kept you there because i assumed you wouldn’t like the way my hands held you or the way my lips drank you in. It is not you I am afraid of. What if my shaky hands can’t hold you and you fall and seep into the earth? What if, in the end, i have consumed you and am only left with empty china? I want to keep you safely in my teacup, but you are not content to stay there while your soul drifts up into the morning air like steam. You were never destined for a teacup and I was never strong enough to keep you there.
k.k. // Never Were