Drunk on Melancholy

It was something unwanted,

But something I needed.

A careful cry

The consequences, I should have heeded.

I am drunk on melancholy.

Drowning in the vodka of sorrow.

It weakens my system,

But I stop to swallow.

As the sadness streams through my veins,

I become aware of the intoxication.

My body is screaming, fighting

To break free from the chains.

My tingling skin awakens me,

My warm body pressed against the bathroom floor.

I look around and reach for that melancholic bottle,

As I sip, I realize there is no more.

For I have consumed all the dreary my body can take,

And my soul whispers the name.

You have afflicted me so many times before,

That I can no longer feel any pain.

My hand, latched on to that bottle empty of sadness,

Glides itself across my quaking veins.

I can feel the burning sorrow leak out through my skin,

And this time my soul screams the name.

I was wasted on melancholic feelings.

At first, not knowing why or how or who,

But what I was feeling, led me,

To know you.