OBSESSION
I dreamt of her again last night. She's all I fantasize about.
I cry about her in the shower. I can't do anything but think of her.
I've tried to get over her. Find someone else.
But I keep coming back to her.
I find myself talking about her to anyone who's interested,
and anyone who's not but is too polite to stop me.
I know her completely, I love her, and she doesn't even care.
She has never really acknowledged my existence. God, she's such a slut.
I can't feel her when I'm with her, she's so loose.
The amount of men she's had is staggering.
It's like I'm just the next guy, no one special.
I remember my first time with her. It was amazing, things
I never thought possible.
I couldn't get the grin off my face for days,
all I could think about was getting home, seeing her,
learning her more intimately every night we were together.
And every night I would become more and more obsessed.
One night I found myself at her house, outside her room,
staring at her through her window.
The next night I brought a camera, and, well, you know.
I now have an embarrassingly large folder in my room of her.
Pictures, Poems, Writings, Anything that came from her or written about her,
I wanted. I needed to be with her all the time.
I still get together with her from time to time.
She thinks I'm just a guy that she can have anytime she's in the mood.
Well she can, because I'm always in the mood for her.
She treats me like shit, makes me so mad sometimes,
I want to strangle her right there. But she can be nice.
The happiest times I've had for years have been with her.
She bleeds away all my pain and woes.
One thing I know is, She means worlds more to me than I do to her.