This Pain is a Drug
Winter air
Sleet, snow,
Blank, white
Ice piercing skin
Daggers
Against a face,
Side stitch,
Stone-cold breath,
One foot in front of another,
No inhaler can fix this ache,
That pricks at my neck,
And bites down my chest
No place to warm my hands,
No one to
Comfort my strained gasps
It stings,
Sharper than whiskey,
Down my throat
But the high
Is also ten folds
Greater
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