When virtue’s burden bends until its spirit breaks,
when living becomes a diminishing value,
her wish becomes a desire to ditch all — then
she disappears, retreats into a room
of her memory palace to drown herself
This came pretty fast and started with the phrase ‘poetry drunk’ which I later shifted from the body of the poem to the title. You can find the words at The Sunday Whirl, as well as others’ efforts.