I drink heartbreaks for breakfast
It tastes a lot like rum
A mix of cola
And a hint of frustration
Sometimes the desperation
Overpowers my taste buds
But I usually don't mind it
Because it's the unpredictability
That makes me want it more
Most times it tastes a bit salty
As I was mixing the tears
That has been flowing freely
Even without my permission
The first sip might be repulsive
The second might be intriguing
But the ones after that is addicting
And sometimes taking a sip
Just isn't good enough
I drink heartbreaks for lunch
Even for dinner
I've gotten so used to the taste
That having my heart broken
Is better than not feeling at all
And sometimes I wonder
If pain didn't taste as good
Would I not be able
To open a bottle
Of my repressed emotions
During New Year's Eve
And drink it until I'm passed out,
Or until I'm empty?