Yo, bartender, mix me another
of those drinks you make
filled with strawberries, booze
and self-confidence.

Bring it to me in this corner
where I hide from my troubles
and lonely men who want
to share my body if not my sorrow.

Another of those fruity concoctions
is what I need to spread hope
across this heart of mine.
to release those fears
that pull me away
from sunshine into
the well of despair.

I carry tiny stones
in my pockets
with thin linings
each pebble a memory
I can’t let go
each threatening to split
the thin fabric which
holds them
though I’m not sure
that’s a bad thing at all.

Yet, will I be me
without these stones?
Will I be able to take a
deep breath
to wiggle my toes
or will I be just
a scattered trail
of pebbles from long ago?

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