My Forbidden Urges

I've been carrying this weight for so long, the kind that twists my gut every night and leaves me staring at the ceiling, wondering if I'll ever find release. It started innocently enough, or at least that's what I tell myself, but deep down, I know it's wrong, so damn wrong, yet I can't stop the thoughts from flooding in. I'm talking about the cravings that hit me like a wave, pulling me under into a world where boundaries blur and society's rules feel like chains I want to shatter. I confessed it once, blurted it out in a moment of raw need, expecting some kind of understanding or even just a listener, but instead, I was met with rejection, a door slammed in my face that made me feel even more isolated. It's not just about the act; it's the thrill, the rush of adrenaline mixed with shame that makes my heart race and my body ache. I fantasize about it constantly, the secrecy, the taboo nature that makes it all the more intoxicating. Sometimes, I hate myself for it, for letting it control me, but other times, I embrace the darkness, letting it consume me in ways that are both terrifying and exhilarating. I've tried to fight it, to bury it deep, but it always resurfaces, demanding attention. If only someone could hear me without judgment, without turning away, maybe then I could breathe easier. But for now, I'm stuck in this cycle, my desires a secret poison that no one else can touch.