eye bags for tea

poetry

Eye bags for tea

as I steep

deep

until I reach the bottom

of the cup

Slow sips because it’s hot

and I don’t want to burn my tongue

like last time

when

I drank my own lies

and almost died

from

blind innocence

I taste my tears and pray

for rain

for better days

for ways to pray away the pain

that likes to overstay its welcome

Fear sprinkled in my tea

sugar in the raw

chemicals flowing

killing me slowly —

a sweet song.

-k.a

For I am full of pent-up words, and the spirit within me urges me on. ‭‭— Job‬ ‭32‬:‭18‬ , NLT‬‬

Authors Note:

I wanted to read poetry, so I wrote it. I named it eye bags for tea because I’ve been exhausted— so exhausted that it made me wonder if I had eye bags. That thought leds to tea bags, then eye bags again, then to the weird idea of an eye bag as a tea bag which sounds horrible in the literal sense but in poetry? Beautiful. I thought about words that rhymed but also didn’t, about sayings that were related yet not the same. I thought deeply and I didn’t think at all. That’s the best way I can explain my form of poetry. I toss every odd thought into heap on the floor of my mind, then sweep it into my heart, where it goes through this passion process—similar to refinement but less perfect. These words, and likely the words in the next few posts, come from a weary heart and a strong mind.

Challenge: Think of something that currently weighs heavy on your heart and turn it into something beautiful, even if you don’t believe it can be.

Example: Grief (this can be a more in-depth example/situation).

~ my constant tears grew a garden in me.

I’d love to see what you came up with, so feel free to share in the comments!

Quotes That Make Me Feel Something: