All this time,
reminded of the thyme tea I drank,
as I was talking to you.

And all those stories I've heard,
from liars and thieves,
about you, not being who you say you are.

Can't even drink my favorite beverage,
my mind being leveraged,
by the thoughts of another summer without you.

Another year,
another failure,
mind messed up from beer portrayed as a liquid savior,
yellow at first sight, just like your hair,
mental state gripping tight, as I gasp for fresh air.

Instead of studying,
I'm thinking about this,
talking to myself, getting madly pissed,
boiling blood, just like the hot water,
tea bags replaced by rolling papers as I stutter,
calling out for help,
in this lonely hell.

Mountain thyme tea,
you're so dearly missed,
could this really be,
cause of the girl I never kissed.