sad · words

Denial

I’ve got time,
I can still mamage it,
My muscles quiver and twitch.
Their voices crowd my head.
I slide off the warm confines on my bed and walk to the bathroom.
I can feel my fingers shaking a little,
My muscles vibrating as I try to stay on my feet.
My heart rate goes up.
I’ve only woken too fast,
The feeling will ease I chant
I stare at the huggard person staring back at me and bite my lip.
Mum can’t be right,
I can control my drinking,
I know when to stop.
My hands shake a little too much as I grip the tap knob.
I could sit in bed and let the nausea pass.
My right side doesn’t hurt this morning,
The last episode was just a scare.
They keep saying I’m in denial,
My feet shuffle,
Muscles weak,
I stumble backwards.
My shaking hands grip the sides of the sink until my knucles poke out.
My eyes water,
My stomach crumps,
A light sheen of sweat coats my skin.
My brain feels hazy so I hold for a little longer.
I can do it,
I don’t need the meetings,
Withdrawals hit hard in the begining is all.
As I stumble back into the room, I see a beer bottle resting on the table.
Heaving,
My side now paining,
I sit on the bed.
I’m not in denial.
I can do it, I just have to keep to one bottle a night.

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