She Is My Drug Big city girl. Her impetuous sweet smile, last long tasting cigaret lips. She's my addiction. She's a butter cup flashing ebony of disguise. Some may say a spy. I say she's mysterious. Last loving enchantment of a lady. My curiosity of her makes me wonder about her dangerous exciting life. She's not perfect, but even perfection isn't perfect. She's a maze, but I wouldn't mind getting lost in her. The darkness suits her best, beautiful lights of the night. She's a symbol of the moon and water. Its like seeing the reflection of the moon in a dark deep lake. Unforgettable beauty. Like magic. But will she be like this tomorrow? Or the next day? Or was it just the moment in time where the moment is right, and what you actually see is a just a lady at night? Are things not always as they appear when you see them for the first time? I wanna question every last bit of her, but I fear of the answers I question. I fear of her company, she makes shiver like an earthquake. She gives me goose bumps every time she speaks. She probably even made my heart skip a beat. It's exciting yet scary like a roller coaster. Yet I still don't want to get off the ride. I felt so awake at night. As tired as I was, I was awaken by her company. I expect nothing for the future. The future will come, and when it does I will be living it. Vodka, drunk, loving, touch. My ingenuous personality may be spinning into a deep whole of mysterious heart blasting rainbow explosives because of this never ending drug of a lady.

-Ashley Sanchez