A Poem From The Collection Of Poems I’ve Yet To Read Aloud…

And for a while my only friend was the glass in my hand,
The liquor slipping down my throat, the only warm touch I needed.
The ice the only thing I dare let linger on my lips,
For fear of being burned.
The voice in my head chanting ‘its okay’
Until the words just blur into one.
‘s’k, s’k, s’k’.
The strength of lifting my hand to my mouth
Rewarded by the rush than ran through me,
The shiver that shook my body,
When it was too strong, 
When there was far too much alcohol, in comparison to pop.
Just like there’s far too many emotions for me to deal with in this small body of mine.
A sip for sadness, a sip for regret, a sip for loneliness,
A gulp for rage, a gulp for courage, 
A glass for clarity.
This friend in my hand, was more delicate than I,
Drop me, I will hurt but I will not break.
Break my friend and they’ll shatter into a million tiny pieces,
My secrets whispered into the rim along with them.
My confessions spoken into the glass,
Released for a moment, 
Weight off my shoulders,
Only to weigh twice as much when I drink them back down, 
For having the time to clarify them. 

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