I’m trying to increase my writting and decrease my stupidity.

Message to Readers

This is darker then the things i usually write but i was trying to experiment with pace and on conveying emotions through a faster vs slower one. If you have any feedback i would love to hear it!

Water Cups

May 6, 2019


She lies, as they all do, locked in the room of water cups, trying to fill a parched life with meaning.

The first cup goes to you. Drink it full as you start drool, waist a kind while and then, with a smile, ask her.

 Ask, go ahead.

Since you asked, gently, the second cup goes to you. Drink it all, allow her to come down your throat, to parch you, to fill you, to love you, drink the whole cup, fill yourself as a well of need and then

 Ask, go ahead

The third cup is already in your hand, drink it. You have been giving your cups, wasting water in punks, it is now the time to be the punk in the room of cups. So, stand. Proudly. Drink the whole cup and may nothing go to waste, may nothing be forgotten, neglected, may none of your pains go down the drain, may you stand and drink and ask what you once gave.
Ask, go ahead. Ask all you want, replace your words with grunts, your hands with baskets, your eyes with pleading signs, become, as you wish, a beacon of want. Become the beggar, because we both know, we do, you are done being the feeder.


May the forth fill you as much as the fifth will hurt you. Let the sixth break the damns within your veins, and the eight cry over the flood on the seventh.
On the tenth your stomach caves and she asks you if you have had enough. Have you? Are you done? Fulfilled? Is your glass body filled until the top, did she manage to cease the empty crooks between the folds of your skin? Was she enough? 


May the tenth cup remind you, no, let the tenth glass remind her that nothing is ever enough. That in this room of cups, we only leave when the fountain dries. The cups, they keep coming. And we beg, they beg, she begs. The beggars give, the givers beg, no one is ever full, we run a cycle ending in null.

Drink the eleventh and let the water overflow. Fill your cups with the water falling down your fingertips and lie, as she did, as they all do, locked in a room full of water cups, trying to fill a parched life with meaning.


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1 Comment
  • loveletterstosappho

    this piece is so so gorgeous and gave me chills. there were some spelling/grammar errors, but nothing that proofreading or grammarly can't fix. well done!

    about 1 year ago