Obsessions

A poem? -if you must- which was written by me when I was fourteen years of age. I decided to get creative. I guess the genre says it all

She finds her prey, and pounces.
She admires them thoroughly; examining every inch.
In the daylight, on the television, she croons like an
innocent baby as though she is incapable of such things.

At night, she lies in thought and stillness; her prey resting
peacefully in the depths of her mind.
The colours she wears, seem to drift along with her obsession..
though she acts as though she doesn’t notice.

Her mind seems to play as her loved character should..
she speaks, she walks, she reacts. Her mind locked in fear.
Paralyzed, helpless. Nothing.
If not obsessed, nothing.

Pictures and reminders of her obsession fill the atmosphere.
The possessions she possesses seem to blur the shape of her loved one,
making her obsession unforgettably tied to her mind.
She is nothing… if not obsessed.

At the end of the character’s time.. she lies.
Motionless, unblinking eyes.
Her fear transforms into rage, emptiness, disappointment.
An empty heart. With a free hand, she disposes her loved prey.

Shreds of paper, glass, wood and blood fill the atmosphere..
she is free now.
Her heart begins to beat once more.
Continuously the heartless process proceeds.

Painfully, unforgettably sore.

Her mind drifts away from reality..
she is hungry once more.

She is fed by those she looks up to and admires.
And when the world ends..
there is no one to be fed from anymore.

Time ends.. life is pointless without the ones she loves.
Before she hits the stone ground with a sickening thud..
nearing her death of unfed love.. she is caught in the air by a god-sent angel.

He catches her with his transparent hands and
breathes life softly into her face.
Her eyes open a small slit, and she can see the colours of the angel.

His face is hidden behind her hooded eyelids.

And when she awakens, he is gone and her heart begins to beat again.
The lively wind blows softly around her.
And when her eyes sweep over the atmosphere,
she recognizes the colours of heaven around her.

She clutches her chest gratefully…
for she knew that angels were immortal creatures.
She looks up to the winged wonders in heaven.

And now she knows death will never touch her.

Author's Note

Ignore any grammar problems or inconsistency, I was young when I composed this :) And I don't think it's fit for alteration because at the time I wrote it, it poured out of me.

Reviews

[J Todd Underhill]

Nice write, keep it as it is, that way you can look back and see how you have grown as a writer, I am currently logging old poetry from notebooks and occasionally I post them here so people can see how I have grown as well. As for this piece I liked it!

[Lorien]

Love this

[Alpris]

Thank you all :) And thank you Sabrina, fixing it now

[Sabrina Claridge]

This is nice. I would consider fixing the line length, though. This poem looks a bit cluttered and is a bit intimidating before reading it.

[Drew Peterson]

not bad