Does that make me defective
to crave the life of a young girl
chasing dangerous indulgence?

Wishing I was screaming with laughter
hanging halfway outside a car window
potentially toxic substances rolled tight
and held stiff between my fingers,
Singing along to the melodies of
my favorite song through a grainy stereo,
Driving without a physical destination
but a mental destination
of joy and acceptance
and true happiness,
Intertwining with the soul of
maybe a significant other
but maybe just a friend in need of
the same type of love I needed that night,
Needing love like it was herion
and being addicted to the idea of freedom
like it was ****.
But we stayed away from drugs like those,
that's why we craved them.
That's why we drove for hours
with nowhere to go.

Does it make me defective
to crave the life of a young girl
chasing dangerous indulgence?