That Burning Secret I Can't Hold Back

Lately, I've been sinking into this weird routine on weekends, locking myself away with cocaine and alcohol, letting it all blur the lines of my self-control. It's like the buzz hits me hard, turning everything into this raw, throbbing need that I can't shake off. The high twists my thoughts into something dark and perverse, making my body ache with desires I know I shouldn't have. I'm talking about wanting someone I can't have, someone off-limits, in ways that feel so fucking wrong but insanely addictive. My skin prickles with anticipation as the chemicals surge through me, igniting fantasies that start innocent but spiral into explicit, filthy scenarios. I picture touching them in ways that would shatter boundaries, my hands roaming where they shouldn't, my breath hot and ragged as I imagine their reactions. It's not just the substances; it's how they strip away my inhibitions, leaving me exposed and hungry for that taboo thrill. I feel guilty as hell in the sober light of day, but in the moment, it's pure ecstasy, a messy cocktail of lust and secrecy that keeps pulling me back. Every time I indulge, it's like I'm dancing on the edge of disaster, my heart pounding with the risk, my mind flooded with images that make me ache for release. I don't know how to stop; it's become my dirty little escape, and God, it feels good to admit it out loud.