Soup

There's a pot,
it's boiling over, spilling at the sides,
Hot steaming water, making your sweetheart cry.
But,
 there's a girl, she's strong and rough
holds down the lid, firm and tough.
Burning her hands, scalding her fingers,
the urge to weep creeps up,
then lingers.
She cannot falter when hearing Dionysus call
for fear he'll trick her and then she'll fall.
So instead,
 she brings out her inner child
safely through icy snow play and slide.
She cannot truly give into sweet Bacchus' temptation
though he beckons with with flirtatious invitation.
A voice in her head chants "girl, mind over matter!
Should you speak you secrets,
your life will only scatter"
Control is slacking, though weak, it's still there,
a constant fight 'tween wine and despair,
Moments alone are a welcome bliss,
relaxing for seconds, all torments dismissed.