I craved that sense of danger-

the feeling of being right on the edge,

but the same amount doesn’t work every time.

I want more.

No, I need more.

When its taken away

I scratch at my skin

staring in the distance,

imagining I still have it,

but with little moments of clarity

I realize just how empty I truly am.

In the moment I don’t think of the risks

that if I keep going I will lose everything.

But I do try to keep it a secret,

trying to be who my parents want me to be,

the golden girl

the one that can do no wrong.

This leads me to craving it all the more.

It has become an obsession,

a supply that I keep everywhere.

So, I can never run out 

I can never lose this feeling

this feeling of not being alone.