Burn

Alcohol tastes better than tears, and it may kill me, but it makes my heart hurt less.

I've always craved the burn in my throat so I wrap herbs in paper and set the gift on fire and I inhale their fumes.

My head becomes light and my thoughts drift, but for once they don't drift to you.

I think of how the universe and the world work and less of how you were my universe 

You'd frown upon my choices now as I pick up my short glass and tip my head back.

Yes it burns, but the burn in my throat is better than the burn in the pit of my stomach when you said you were leaving.