Here we go, the first shot of alcohol-
it burns my throat.
But not as bad as when you left.

Second shot.
My nerves are set on fire, straight down my spine.
Just like when your finger tips used to graze my skin.

Third shot.
Everything is numb.
It cures my sadness, almost the way your smile used to.

Fourth shot.
Are those tears or are the drinks making me blind, so that I no longer need to see the face that made me weak in the knees?

My fifth shot of liquor,
it’s almost as warm as your breath was…and 

thank god,
it knocks me out.

But the first thought that crashes through my unconscious mind, are your eyes.

How much I loved them when you gave me your sweet promises;
how cold they became when you broke all of them.