One hundred and five days
wasted.
Down the drain
along with the crimson and
I tried.

Pushed to the limit, I
Could not control
that which my skin
begged for.

Crawling like a thousand
ants.  Screaming, wretching,
Pleading. Give me
More.

And I gave in, weak in my
Pain.  I could not control,
Myself, my mind, my
Hands.

They say relapse,
Is necessary in recovery but
I say it's
Failure.

Failure and weakness,
Reminding me that I cannot
Overcome the
Monsters.

I begin the count again,
One two three,
Waiting to see how long it will
Take.

One Hundred and Five days
Gone to waste, and I
Tried, and I
Failed.