and here's the reason
She craves his touch like a whore wants her next fix: long, strong, and really expensive. She wants to destroy her whole life, watch it go up in flames like hiroshima. She wants to set herself on fire because she would be flirting with the best adultress ever: death. She wants the adrenaline rush of danger and the sedatory fix of lying to your hostess about going to the bathroom because it was "that time of the month" when it was really just "that time of the month" for the hostesses husband to be in there, waiting for long smooth arms, and the breath of perfume as she entertwined her ample neck around his and forgot to lock the door. She screams in silence from the drink of the morning that will never be hers. She wants to break the most determined man. She craves to destroy the best. She desires to be broken and destroyed, naked on the linolium floor sobbing for the world who will never see what she does.
She wants to be free from a world of lessons learned and lessons to be forgotten. She wants to leave the past behind and be free from the squalors and noise of the distructive world. She wants to be free from society and their gult.
She wants to know "just because it is doesn't mean it ought." as intimately as a cup of coffee; to sip it carefully so that it wouldn't burn and consume it to let it melt into her body.
She wants to be free from a world of lessons learned and lessons to be forgotten. She wants to leave the past behind and be free from the squalors and noise of the distructive world. She wants to be free from society and their gult.
She wants to know "just because it is doesn't mean it ought." as intimately as a cup of coffee; to sip it carefully so that it wouldn't burn and consume it to let it melt into her body.