They don’t understand my disorder,
My hunger is something unknown,
And though the cold is around me,
I need the ice to feed my bones.
My body’s a temple of worship,
And enzymes these anthems they raise,
To sing of the valour of water,
To note that frost does amaze.
I take hold of frigid pieces,
I feel each one with my lips,
My tongue salivates over drippings,
My throat swallows the sips.
Molars pulverise icy gems,
The crushing of such gives me joy,
And it feels quite proper,
Though I know it will surely destroy