sensitive content - a feeling that doesnt exist #

There is something written into the cells of my body that was once dormant and has never gone away after it was woken. 

No matter how many years I grow older, no matter where I go, it is still there. The only difference is that the older I get, the harder it is to satisfy. 

There is this part of me that obsesses over a feeling that I'm pretty sure doesn't actually exist. It aches. It feels like this:

It feels like certain parts of certain songs, which in turn remind me of this feeling. It sounds like "In the Fire and Flames" by Lycia. It sounds like The Frozen Autumn. It sounds like Buckshot Roulette. It sounds like Blut Aus Nord. It feels like it feels like my skin is being opened, gently, cruelly, it feels like the feeling that comes before, or maybe after, or maybe during excruciating pain. It aches deeply in my chest. It feels profound. It feels evil. It feels euphoric.

It feels like what it must feel like to succumb to a sin. like Gluttony. Pride. Sloth. Greed. 

I wonder what is wrong with me. At what point did I succeed in ruining myself? And now that I've been ruined, I chase the moment endlessly, like I am hypnotized. I find myself hopelessly obsessed with it, but it has already happened -- or it will never happen. It's one of the two. All I know is that chasing it just makes everything worse. The euphoric feeling is always just in my head. It doesn't exist. 

But it leaves me with one final obsession; I need to create the feeling. I need a song, a drawing, a picture, a poem. Something that finally fully reflects the tumultuous feeling that sleeps in my lungs, something that makes me feel seen. Something that allows me to feel without ruining me.