e i g h t e e n

should I be empty by now?

----------------

I'm eighteen when I realize that I

love

feeling

empty.

And she's right there to smirk, the corner of one perfect lip tilted upward, as she whispers, "See?"

I look into her eyes, swirling like the sea, and she wraps herself around my ankles like concrete blocks and pulls me under.

I'm eighteen and I'm addicted.