off the wagon

whenever you drink too much,
and you wake
up with a headache, a body ache,
and cotton mouth
you promise yourself that you'll
never drink again, at least not
to that level of inebriation.
but a few weeks go by, a month
or two, and you've healed
from your overindulgence and you
say, what the hell, why not have
that third martini, why not,
betty just had her third. so
you do, and off you go.
the same holds true for love, I
guess. after it ends and you've
lost weight, and you're sick
to your stomach, grieving the loss
of someone important in
your life, you tell yourself,
that's it. this love hangover
stinks, never again will I fall
in love. but after a few weeks,
well, off the wagon you go.
and you're writing love poems
to someone you hardly know.