The mug is hot, it burns my fingertips.
The tea inside welcomes me but does not tell me its danger.
It is not cool, it is not warm; it's boiling.
Its tempurature melts my tongue as i take an unknowing sip.
It hurts and yet i drink it again.
And again.
And again.
Over time the liquid inside cooled but my burns stayed fresh.
They stayed and they hurt, something that would be repeated.
It hurt.
It hurts.
So i made another cup.
About the Creator
Haleigh Peck
I'm just here to write out my feelings....was that dramatic enough?
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