I put myself out there gently,
sliding a delicate china tea cup across a table.
My love in a tea cup, just for you.
Me in a tea cup, just for you.
I put my trust out there every time,
trusting you will return it just as gently.
But every time you drop my tea cup,
my metaphor for love,
I am always stunned.
I am stunned into the shock
and desbelief one gets when overcome
by the fear of another Humpty-Dumpty puzzle,
so impossible to solve.
Though every time,
I surprise you with my strength of heart.
You expect me to cry or leave, but I refuse.
Instead, sometimes to your frustration,
I stay.
Instead, for each tea cup,
I bend over and pick up the pieces at your feet.
And I am still here.
Perhaps I should know better by now.
Perhaps I should have cried before.
Perhaps I should have left long ago.
But maybe I have not yet learned my lesson.
Or maybe I will always be here to serve you my tea.
At least, there will always be a cup for you to sample,
filled to the brim with my love.
I really like this one. I wrote the first version this evening, and it has just kept evolving in revision. Tell me what you think!
~Yoyo
