v.
burning ice
alcohol swims in my veins
it dances beneath my papered skin
and warms the surface
like a liquid fire
burning against a candle's wick
but my insides don't feel it
my chest is still cold
every rib laced with white frost
my intestines curl and rot
my stomach clenches, frozen,
every organ set in stony ice
and though my mind
is impossibly clouded
and blissfully numb,
the whiskey does nothing
to drunken my soul.
oh, i miss her.
i miss her, i miss her.