Infatuated by the feel
Could it be real
Doubting myself
My own disbelief
Accompanied my interest
Upon that which drained me
My muscles tore
As I pondered the possibilities
Positive or negative impacts
Lingered inside my skull
Like a bad dream
I couldn’t see what was in front of me
I’d come home and think about the feel
The way it made my hair stand up
Or my stomach wring out
I’d call in sick
I’d sit around with this imaginative being
Who could believe me
It was beautiful
Like no other
I starred helplessly
It had compelled me
To focus
Hypnotized by its ability to synthesize
I was mesmerized by more than a set of eyes
My life changed
To something I’m happy I became
My neck was finally able to lift my head
My chest was finally able to inflate
My shoulders felt weight
I felt pressure
To be absolutely perfect
In hopes to be able to conquer all that I pondered
How do I succeed?
I wanted more of this new me
How could I raise more?
I wanted to be known
I wanted to be loved
I stared in the mirror look for inadequacies
I shined my shoes and slicked back my hair
My tie was real tight and my pants real high
I loved myself
The way I looked
The way I felt
My confidence
Why wouldn’t anyone else?
Until it disappeared
I began to notice my lack of acknowledgement
I fell in love with myself
More than that which showed me love
I didn’t recognize, appreciate or praise its beauty or intelligence
It’s ability to make me better
I was so in love with the man I was becoming
That it started wrong from the beginning
So wrong that I failed to call her by her name
Instead of “it”
I wanted to become better more than I wanted her
She was therapeutic to my lifestyle
Yet she fixed everything but the ultimatum
The one who controls the lifestyle
My appreciation was inexistent
As my search for a new personality enriched
I couldn’t even call her “she”
I couldn’t even remember her name
After months I would have heard it a million times
But now It’s all I want to know
I can remain without the love again
But her name would give me that sense of hope
Belief and direction
Until I found a letter written in my name
I pealed back the envelop and unfolded the coffee stained paper
Hope eroded my body
I wanted to know
I was nervous and obsessed with the unknown
The letter read to me:
“You were inexistent in my life and obsessed with your own.

Goodbye,

Anonymous.”
She didn’t even add her name
She knew I that I never knew
She knew I never paid attention
So much that she felt I was unworthy of knowing it
My head fell from my neck
My chest deflated
My shoulders could not bare the weight
I no longer felt how she made me feel
I was inadequate to myself
I was my own worst nightmare
And although I now lived alone
I slept with the devil every night