I bring the can to my lips, letting the brown liquid flow smoothly from my mouth, down to the back of my throat, to the pit of my stomach
I bring the cigar to my lips, inhaling and exhaling the grey smoke and letting it coil around me like a snake squeezing the life out of its next victim
A cry for help fights to pry itself free from my sealed lips but I force it back down into its cave in the . bottom of my heart with another swig
My friends are the only thing that can keep me alive

I sleep

I wake up the next morning only to be greeted by my needs, my life, my friends
They touch my lips and then suddenly I am whole
I roll out of bed, throw on my sweatpants and sneakers, and smack on a cheap cherry lip gloss
I walk into the broken down recreational center with yellowing walls and odors of rotting wood
I take my usual seat next to the man with the eye patch and the young girl with the bright pink hair
I have never learned their names

The circle
A word has never left my lips in the circle nor have I ever felt the need for them to do so...
Until now whilst I am hit with a whirlwind of realization

These “friends” are hurting me
These “friends” are holding me above a sea of sharks as if I were bait
These “friends” are slowly stealing my life out of my wallet like a skilled pickpocket
These “friends” are taking me from my friends

The words roll around my tongue
The words pound their fists at my teeth
The words move up and down my throat, making me want to vomit
The words finally meet my parted lips and spring out with the intensity of a roaring hurricane
“Hi, my name is Casey and I am a drug addict.”