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.