Siren

I feel the undercurrent pull at me, the dark, swirling vortex in my mind. Do i take a drink? I want to, i want to so badly.

"Yes!" The voice in my gut cries. "Once more won't do any harm, just a touch".

Ive been sober for three weeks now, and this is the worst it's been. The yearning, the hunger. She pulls at me like a siren. The sweats and the empty feeling deep down are the worst. Thank God i don't have a problem though, imagine how bad that would be.

Just one sip won't hurt me will it? After all, i'm the one in control. I navigate the seas of sobriety and I am the captain of my ship.

I never realise that the ship I command is the Titanic, and what lies ahead is a destiny of my own making.

It's ok, I tell myself as I finish my second bottle of Scotch, I'm the one in control.

The vortex pulls me in and I find solace as the world fades away to the swishing of the Scotch in the bottle nestling in my arms.