It feels like the water is just up to my knees.
I think I can handle it,
that I can stop the leak before it envelops me completely.
I don’t want to slip.
I want to slip.
I’m sick of being sick.

I can hear their encouraging voices in my head,
saying stay strong.
Don’t give in.
You’re stronger than this,
you know you are.
You don’t need it.

But,
I don’t know how strong I really am right now.
It would be so easy,
so terribly easy to stretch my arm out,
pick up my phone
and
tap my finger on a contact.

It’s always so much more difficult
to build your world back up
than
it is to tear it down.

I can’t pretend it isn’t hard,
one day at a time shouldn’t be so hard to keep going,
right?

I ignore call
after call,
after call.
It’s as if they know I’m struggling.
That they know I want it.

Just one more,
one more time.
Will one really turn into two?
Will three really turn into five?
I want it,
so badly.
I’m sorry.