It wasn’t until the 4th shot of vodka that it began to feel like love.
The warm sensation, starting in the pit of your stomach and travels
through every vein in your body, out to the tips of your fingers and
tingles in your toes. Baby it wasn’t until you had your heart broken
that you craved that feeling from every man you met, you wanted that
spark, that light to ignite in your belly and give you that head rush
again. Now you find it at the bottom of bottles, in dumpy bars where the
men call you toots and darlin, asking for a good time and you being the
sad little shell of a girl which you used to be; slam down that 4th (or
was it 6th?) shot of liquid love and follow that man home, just hoping
and praying that he gives you that feeling again.