There was a hunger in her eyes, a yearning for something she felt so very cheated of. The feeling she longed for was shadowy and weaker every time she found it again, more elusive than it was to the rest of us. She’d fallen in love with the drug of being alive. So she found ways of shooting herself up with light. Like leaning over the edge just far enough to feel the tug of the pavement below and wavering there until her veins pumped with what ever flying feels like. She sprinted across busy streets knowing full well that there was two tons of screaming metal on her heels, she lived for the hot kiss of exhaust whispering just how close she’d come. All because she’d just discovered what it was like to like life. I was never sure whether to stay a step behind her, ready to wrap my arms around her waist and pull her off that ledge if she teetered too far, or if I should join her danger game and see if I could get as high as she was.
A.O.A.M. || Danger Games (via thehipsterconspiracy)
