As I put my drink on the night stand; promising myself that I am not going to do it.
I still do.
I push its head under, submerging its life in a lake of past joy,
irreplaceable happiness and love that will never be mine.
While it struggles, fighting for its life
I apply more force, ensuring it drowns today
Hopeful that its death is my elation tomorrow
So I take another sip.
It won't die! What if "IT"can't die Maya?
But everyone hates me for it, its stench is malignant, attitude repugnant,
it stands tall with a backbone made of arrogance
and it lies down and wrap itself cozily in a quilt made of guilt, regret, unspoken words and time I can't get back.
It is driving away the people I love.
And will assure that anyone I plan to love- never will be worthy.
So I take another sip, trying my best to drown it.