My cold heart couldn't bear a cup of burning hot sadness I drank this evening,
it is now breaking and crying,
like a pretty glass doll falling over from top of the drawer,
and the little girl who's watching as it hits the floor.

My brain is trying hard to tell anything in my body
to possibly start producing liquid nitrogen
for my blood
to freeze all the tears away.

I need dry ice.
A ******* box of dry ice
to keep my cold heart cold.
Away from any flames.

I like myself better that way.