Balcony

Freeze dried hot drinks desensitise me to everyday things
Like in winter when the blood doesn't reach my extremities
And the scalding, screaming shower water hits me
I can feel the vessels in my fingers bursting

When it hits my tongue after passing my lips
There's no restless reflexing to spit it out
All of my sorrow now I just drink it down
Out of an "I hate Mondays" mug and then I piss it out

No amount of near-boiling varnish remover
Prepares me for your special kind of bitter
It must ferment in you just like this cup of brew
And you erupt in my face, I think it's really rude