Broken Jug

In long forgotten days
I was a handsome mug
stable, polished to shine
Shyly awaiting lips to wet

As time passed by
I was seen to hands
the varnish went
fissures from use

I found some lips
with cracks so deep
I had to try and heal
with soothing balm

a horn of plenty
to quench your thirst
endlessly, and smooth your lips
was what I thought

But then one day
you found the straws
the lipsticks marks
from those I gave as well

My arrogance that wouldn't listen

underestimated your warnings
and overestimated my capacities
misjudged the sharpness of my cracks
and mistook your resilience as given
unaware of your hands' strength
that crashed me down on the hard tabletop

the fractures are deep
what's spilled will stain

I put myself on the shelf again
to close the gaps
with dried up balm
what's left of it
to hurt no more
not you, not me,
nor anyone

Goodbye, My Thirsty Friend