—a deceptively delicate cup where beauty steeped too long turns sharp on the tongue.
It bloomed, at first, a lovely thing,
With jasmine whispers, hints of spring.
A fragrant swirl, a honeyed breeze,
The taste of days without disease.
But then it lingered, turned too dry,
A petal curled beneath a lie.
The finish bit. The scent grew stale.
What once was bright began to pale.
You chased the notes, you swirled the cup,
But flowers fade when coffins shut.
What’s delicate can still go dark,
A bloom can cut, and leave a mark.
You drank it all to prove you could.
But roses rot in polished wood.
📜 Bitter Bloom – The Recipe
Ingredients:
- 1½ oz Light Roast Espresso (floral, high-acid, emotionally unstable)
- ½ oz Lavender-Honey Syrup (soft enough to distract you)
- 2 oz Steamed Oat Milk (because dairy ruins the illusion)
- Garnish: Edible flower—beautiful, tasteless, and dead
Instructions:
Pull a floral-forward espresso. Stir in lavender-honey syrup. Top with oat milk steamed until airy and fragile. Float an edible flower on top—preferably one that’s past its prime. Serve in a vintage teacup with a chip on the handle. Sip while questioning your own bloom cycle.