Obsession

I am obsession.

My handmade personality is based on obsession

With art,

With celebrities,

With aesthetics,

And with my own ideals of my being.

My overwhelming love is based on obsession.

Once I met someone I like,

They consume my thoughts,

My eating habits,

My sleep schedule,

My physical needs

And my emotions needs.

My high education and intelligence is based on obsession.

I only go to one of the best universities in the states 

Because I want to be the best,

I want to be seen as the best,

I want to be better than you

And myself. 

I am obsessed

And I am nothing 

Without my own obsessions.

Love isn’t that simple

Love is not that simple.

Love in not that simple to me.

Other people experience it as 

Something fresh, pleasant and joyful.

I experience it as 

a rebirth, dreading and overall painful.

Love,

For me,

Turns into obsession.

Turns into wanting to be apart of your physical being.

Turns into a burning pain due to how much I crave and desire.

Love,

For me,

Is sickening.

My daily functions depend on your admiration of me.

My mind, body and soul depends on your overall happiness.

Love,

For me,

Becomes my entire identity.

I am not me if I don’t have or possess you.

I am meaningless without love.

Is this healthy?
No, it isn’t.

But it’s the only way I thrive within my being. 

Love Letter

What must I do for your love?

What must I do for you to be mine?

You are the embodiment of perfection and glory.

The sight of you makes my knees weak

And my power, my ego, disappear.

Your boyish appearance and naïve aura

Makes you irresistible and I want to

Corrupt you,

Damage you,

A man of twenty, but you’re so pure,

So new, to this harsh world.

I was made

For you.

I will write for you until my fingers bleed.

I will further damage this world for you.

I will give you my beating heart for your own.

I will crawl on my hands and knees if you asked.

I will only exist for your own happiness and pleasure.

Enjoy

It’s the holiday season, a very special time of year for me. I remember my mother would always make a special meal for my father whenever their relationship got rocky. The meal would always snap him back in place and make him more in love with her.

She never gave me the recipe, but I remember a few key ingredients.

Parsley for better communication.

Paprika to heat up their relationship.

Celery to improve health.

Carrots for sweetness.

And a piece of meat for stability.

I always thought the store bought food wasn’t good enough for you, so I found alternatives like gardening and harvesting my fruits and vegetables. But you can’t garden or harvest meat.

As I pour a nice, big bowl of stew, you stay glued to your phone. A frown washes over across your face as you tell me about how your co-worker didn’t show up to work the past couple of days and how the entire office is worried about her. I placed the bowl in front of you as you continues to tell me the details.

“Enjoy.” Mindlessly, he dives his spoon into the stew and shovel it into his mouth. I observe as he chews and processes his food, slowly becoming more and more confused.

He puts down his phone and spoon and reaches into his mouth to pull out a human toe bone. As he analyzes the bone, he turns to me slowly and says, “how did you know?” With a smirk on my face, I shrug my shoulders and say,

“I just have good intuition, honey.”