and post notes and photos about your poem like Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly.
If I could add categories to tag with this poem, they would be, stalking, cyberstalking, obsession. This is a reality of mine, which I wish I didn't have to be living with. Ever so often I write some words, trying to add a touch of humour as I write in an attempt to 'purge the pain' and anguish brought on by this horrible subjugation. This is one such time. However, I also try to maintain some sort of a sense of humour in dealing with this and make a point to never let it create a feeling of hatred in my heart and this is not easy, but if I allow myself to hate because of this, in spite of having plenty of justifiable cause or reason, then I allow him to succeed at gaining the power to compromise my dignity and I'm not about to ever let him do this.
Someone that I know has a serious affliction,
Not chemically induced though, is their addiction.
He is always needing another dose or fix
In one way or another or in ways, a mix.
Though I don't know why, how he became addicted,
He clearly shows to me he's definitely afflicted.
He believes he doesn't give indistinct hints
And no, he doesn't, just very distinct glints.
Now, what I will describe will seem silly indeed,
But to the one afflicted, it's an unhealthy need.
He cannot help himself for he cannot stay away
From this need of his of a fix each and every day.
So, continually, consistently, he follows me around
To see what I'm doing and to hear my voice, the sound.
Although to me, such seems too preposterous to picture,
In his life he has made me a permanent fixture.
Eleven years and counting, this has been underway.
One would think he'd tire to waste his life this way.
But it seems the more time that does goes by,
His addiction deepens and still I know not why.
As with every addict, his response is the same,
Denies he is is obsessed, refusing thus to claim.
But as with every addict who can't themselves, see,
To those looking on, the picture's painted clearly.
Oh, but there's more that needs to be said
And his logic will make you dizzy in your head.
He emphatically states he wants nothing to do with me,
But who is the one stalking to make his presence be?
His actions and behaviour tell everything to know
And for his addiction, he'll stoop to a level, low.
Eavesdropping is illegal, as is privacy invasion,
But somehow he justifies his every violation.
As with every addict, their admission of's a must.
Or else attempts to free themselves will be a bust.
Once this obstacle is met; head on, squarely faced,
The cause(es) of their addiction can then be traced.
I can only feel sorry for him, the prison he is in.
What a heavy burden he carries all around, within.
For one's life to be dependent upon such a crux
Can only be pathetic, a life that only sucks.
I wish I could help him but there's nothing I can do,
Although I've tried to show him there's good in him, too.
Even though he stalks me, clings to my every word,
He resents me greatly, making him appear even more absurd.
Perhaps, my perception could be altered a bit,
If I thought for a second I was with his heart a hit.
Then I could at least be able to somewhat comprehend
The reason for his constant watch that seems without end.
But change can only come when he chooses to make it
And not rely on his ego, enabling him to fake it.
To be someone's fix is not pleasant in the least,
When all you say and do is consistently policed.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-03-24 23:03:00 (EST)
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Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018