SST8 Scratch Second Draft: Afrah

15 Feb

Tech: I’d like to play around with lighting at different points of the poem (side lights/spotlights) but not too sure just yet.

Feedback: I cut my first draft down because it was way too long. I’d like to know if this draft is any better and just general thoughts on the poem.


‘Cup of tea’

After a long day, I will always do one thing.

I take a second to just breathe over a steaming hot cup of tea,

and give life to each stunted memory rooted in my mind.

I think of you then.

Its then, that I think of you.

A wistful sigh penetrates my closed lips when I give my mind freedom to drift back to those particular instances,

because I remember more than anything, how desperately I wanted to be … your cup of tea.

Be a blissful moment that you could seek refuge in

when the tides crashed in at a force that could not be reckoned with.

Be something – just a little something – you would discover was your heavenly addiction.

I wanted to make your body come alive again after you rubbed the sleepless nights from your eyes.

That’s all I really wanted.

I had failed the test of understanding that you and I were built to be different.

Because I have only ever been half a glass of realism,

whilst your optimism could fill the glass to the brim.

I offered you generous amounts of full fat love,

and you could only donate a dash of affection.

I have this infatuation with coffee breaks, coffee dates, but… I hate coffee.

And you… you were more of an alcoholic beverage.

As strong as coffee can be, but with the power that could make invincible fall to her knees,

drowning in self-pity questioning “why did I swallow words that were 60% deceit?”

My brain still struggles with forgiving my heart for letting me walk into walls.

And every day, as I stir the contents in my cup,

I let myself absorb the past two years of my life in the way my teabag does,

And in between the bitter sweet memories that latch on to my lips like sugar coated apologies,

I think to myself:

Teabags don’t question why they must carry the weight of water to benefit someone else.


I never would have thought that a cup of tea would be a reflection of myself.

I stare at my teabag in wonder thinking that we now have so much in common.

Like you, Mr Tetley’s teabag, I let my emotions brew.

Believing that if the contents of my soul grew darker, then what was left of me could only be stronger,

and using your sachet of acidic words as a spoon to initiate movement was somewhat normal behaviour.

I could have just let it go.

And perhaps forcing you to enjoy tea made you yearn for some kind of coffee,

and flutter into the wide arms of something stronger than I could ever be.

Or maybe I was never the problem.

Maybe I was never really your cup of tea.

And that’s okay… because you were never mine anyway.


One Response to “SST8 Scratch Second Draft: Afrah”

  1. MouthyPoets February 15, 2015 at 2:08 pm #

    Hey afrah love this concept but I think it falls down after the tea bag stanza .you say a lot of the same thing at the end .try cutting it down and seeing of you like it any more 🙂 .but yeah really good concept .neal

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