I’ve been shot, but I have no wound. I’ve been captured, yet I’m perfectly free. I’m a thousand words that never make a sound, A moment of you that will outlive me

I’m a pocket-sized tavern with a screw-top crown, I keep liquid secrets when bottles can’t come around. At bonfires, tailgates, or mountain peaks brisk, I warm frozen courage with a sly little twist. Metal-bellied, hip-hugging, quiet as a task, What am I?

A trade that requires nimble and fines without a gentle touch this will surely be hard to get unset

Backwards I’m a spinning toy Forward I can get you spun, oh boy

I can close my eyes, sure that's not that hard, But I can't seem to drift away, it's like I'm barred, My bed is comfortable and my sheets are soft, Please, body, can I sleep now? No! my subconscious scoffed