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Aug 2014
No matter how many scalding showers that sear my skin I take, nothing can thaw the cold that has seeped through to my bones.
Hot cups of tea do nothing to warm the hollow pit of my stomach, to melt the chip of ice in my chest.
Whiskey burns my throat, but nothing else.
Holding my fingertips over flickering candles blisters my skin while the rest of me succumbs to frostbite.
My tongue feels frozen solid, a leaden weight behind my teeth.
I'm freezing to death from the inside out.

(kiss my blue lips, breath some life back into me)
this isn't poetry I just don't know what to do with it
Aisling
Written by
Aisling  Ireland
(Ireland)   
268
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