Last night, I dreamt that my mom
was angry at me for calling her. 
So, I texted her this morning
to make sure nothing was wrong. 
She called me “silly.”

I knew I should avoid texting. 
There was an itch on my spine
and I scratched it. There I was
typing away like I hadn’t fed
something that would raise its head

Because, reassurance is a drug 
for people like me. 
It floods my veins and runs
straight to my head
where I feel a jolt of serotonin. 

And I know I’m supposed to
avoid it. It hurts the body, 
the mind, but dear god, 
it feels so good. And maybe, 
if it kills me, I can die happy.

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