Slippery Slope
I know that I’m sliding ever lower, but I can’t seem to find any way to slow my decline. I know it isn’t long before I hit rock bottom, but that doesn’t actually change anything. Maybe if there someone, family or a friend or just a kind stranger, were to reach out a hand, throw a lifeline, but no, I’m all alone in this, and my efforts to pull myself up are to no avail.
I sure wish I were speaking in metaphor; those rocks at the bottom look sharper, more literal, than any drinking problem ever could.
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