Obsession

A story about unhealthy, one-sided, toxic love

Tell me, Miss-
What shape of man arrests your eye?
His height, voice and stature
Speak, and I shall mold mine
To match his every line and lie

And should my mettle prove
too brittle or tensile
Rest assured, it shall
Be melted down
To be recast and reforged
To fit your fabled mold

Whisper once the song
That colors your cheek
And I will sing it-
To the death of this world
As a curse I carry in my teeth

And should the tune be amiss
By the slightest bend
Of note or pitch
I will wrench the clock back
To sing again
Breathless, coarse, but without a hitch

Recite the tale
That excites you most
Tell, and I shall make it real
With you at it's core
Rising with every high
And me, sinking with every low

And should you divert
Or change your mind
About a certain beat or point
I shall erase every line
And rewrite every stroke
To your taste and like

Describe the painting
That stirs your soul
And I shall paint it
Decaying brush after brush
Sketching, painting, repainting
Until death awaits my door

And should that canvas
Perchance not contain my shape
Or should my existence dull it's drape
I shall cut myself from frame and fate
And vanish, without a trace