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Literature Text
I followed you home
Wondering the thoughts
that were on your mind
I quietly traced your steps
Following just moments behind;
Relishing the faint scent of your
perfume
As I watched you unlock your door
I wondered if you would invite me in
Greet me, like the man the night before
But he doesn’t know you as I do
He doesn’t watch your every move
He didn’t memorize your delicate features
With you, his mind isn’t consumed
I knew you wouldn’t mind
If I just let myself in
I watched you undress in front of the mirror
Then masturbate on your sheets of satin
I wonder how your visitor touched you
How he made you move
I wonder if your were satisfied
The things you begged him to do
I forgive you though
I know that you are weak
You cannot stand to be alone
It’s just comfort you need
I can patiently wait
For the moment you’ll see
That you are finally complete
When you are comforted by me
In the shower you’re singing
The song playing when we first met
Though you never noticed the gaze of my eyes
From my sight, I couldn’t let you get.
Wondering the thoughts
that were on your mind
I quietly traced your steps
Following just moments behind;
Relishing the faint scent of your
perfume
As I watched you unlock your door
I wondered if you would invite me in
Greet me, like the man the night before
But he doesn’t know you as I do
He doesn’t watch your every move
He didn’t memorize your delicate features
With you, his mind isn’t consumed
I knew you wouldn’t mind
If I just let myself in
I watched you undress in front of the mirror
Then masturbate on your sheets of satin
I wonder how your visitor touched you
How he made you move
I wonder if your were satisfied
The things you begged him to do
I forgive you though
I know that you are weak
You cannot stand to be alone
It’s just comfort you need
I can patiently wait
For the moment you’ll see
That you are finally complete
When you are comforted by me
In the shower you’re singing
The song playing when we first met
Though you never noticed the gaze of my eyes
From my sight, I couldn’t let you get.
Literature
Stalker
It started as an interest
Building to obsession
I want you so bad
I want to make you make my possession
Looking out the window
I see you walking down the street
Our eyes catch for a moment
And you smile shyly at me
Then you turn and walk away
Why is it that didn't stay?
It's all right my darling
I know where you live anyways
I'm creeping through the shadows
Following close behind
I could almost touch your skin
I want to make you mine
It started as an interest
Building to obsession
I want you so bad
I want to make you make my possession
You feel my breath upon you neck
And so you turn around
I duck back into the darkness
Literature
Phobia.
I. I'd call you on sunny days on my porch
to tell you that a heart shaped cloud
just split down the middle and that I am
scared.
You'd tell me that I am not a cloud, that I
am a precious stone that cannot be
broken by the winds and that I'll only
get more beautiful as I age.
II. I'd call you on rainy days on my rooftop
to tell you that the lightning is so close and
I don't know how I ended up here and I'm
afraid that I want the lightning to slice me in
half so I know I'm not dreaming.
You'd tell me you'd be right over, to sit on
my rooftop and cuddle up to me so that if the
lightning were to hit me, you could take half the
pa
Literature
Insane
Insane.
People call me insane.
How do they know?
Can anyone truly say what is insane?
And what isn't?
Who can judge? Everyone.
Who has the right? No one.
They are not mind-readers.
They have no way of knowing
What is inside my head.
Even if I write it down,
It is changing all the time.
Points of view, opinions.
The next second they become old
And untrue
And new ones take their place.
Constantly moving,
Constantly changing, evolving,
Inside my head.
Always questioning, thinking,
Reasoning, and imagining.
Insane? I don't think so.
Truth is a matter of opinion
And perception.
Everyone is insane
At the exact time
Tha
Suggested Collections
Courting - stalker style
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Comments6
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You sure know a lot about stalking... a little too much...
Jk, jk. Good poem
Jk, jk. Good poem