Wow. I really don't know how to interperate this. Well, i'll give my own meaning to it.
This poem made me think of death (what's beyond the ceiling, could be heaven), it made me think of intoxication (drinking away the sorrow) and it made me think of wanting more than what one has.
The description is vivid. Your details were extraordinary; I loved the bit when the narrator pulls the straps of her tank top up. It was nice and unusual, yet, very usual.
"I seek what's beyond the ceiling", now, this line made me feel sorrow, aren't we all 'seeking' or 'searching' for something more? No matter what we have, we always seem to want more.
I loved it, Kaitlin. You are immensely talented. I can't barely believe you're so young, too.

This poem is at once beautiful and disturbing, a picture painted with precise brushstrokes, and yet with closer inspection, the precision breaks down, distortions are revealed, and you realize that not all is right.

Reminds me of a Cindy Sherman painting, frankly.