Woes and Whiskey

I see you staring at me

You green-glass bottle.

And I see why better poets than I

Liken you to love,

(Or at least like a woman).

I pour you down my throat

And it's fire, fire, all burning

Stinging my eyes

Slapping warmth into my face.

And oh, that warmth!

The exhilirating rush just after

The momentary pain.

My joints loosen

And the world is all fluidity

(My head doesn't hurt anymore, how about that?)

I can't seem to get enough of you!

The more I take, the more you take over

Hurt me, soothe me...

I can see why love...woman...whiskey

Why all three of you...

Why simply one combined

Is so dangerous.

But what the hell!

Time for another shot!