Drunk Poem by Petra Novakova

the stones in your head keep weighting you down
one entombed in a golden glass the other brown
to free yourself from the bittersweet pain of thirst
you must sacrifice that which burns the most first
take control of your soul and reign the demon in
let no more drops of fire be spilled for your sin
so that those who once loved you may be healed
from the disease which for you they have carried
and if your deepest desire is with them to rejoice
you must never again taste your poison of choice