No matter the level of scrutiny,

I will lower the boom on my security

until I can no longer touch the bottom

floating endlessly in the sea of

dysfunction.

When out in the current,

I cannot see land,

it doesn’t exist except for the occasional

tease of sand between my toes,

not enough to keep my head above water,

or perhaps just then,

a wave slaps me backward into a flurry

of indecision, of prayer, of redemption, of

endless derision.

Of course when I do have an opportunity to breathe,

I am grateful,

I recall the heavy seas, pulling me away,

when grounded,

I begin to question,

how foolish it was to imagine,

I could live that long in suspended disbelief.

Inside the bubble of denial

my addictive personality

could survive forever,

long after my last gasp.