
Wine and Anxiety
Should we go for a drink?
It’s the same as asking you to tell me about your day and I tell you about mine.
Daylight is scarce, dinner will do fine.
Even when sharing a bottle of wine, the conversation stays as dry as merlot.
Why can’t I talk to you?
Here I am with nothing but penetration to a page.
The words flow easy.
I can only contain myself on paper.
Am I nothing more than a limit of page to page.
The safety net between covers.
If I tell you my sins will you tell me another?
I’m trapped between the margins and I want nothing more than for you to read between the lines.
Top it off, more wine?
Another glass, another minute another word?
Anything is fine.
About the Creator
Alea Veda
No BIO



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