Tired of Being Sad

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 a 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 repugnant, attitude malignant,

it stands tall with a backbone made of arrogance

it lies down and wraps 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