The obsession

The way his hair bounces in the light,

the way he smiles his devious grin

The way he says everything will be fine

always seems to cover over

my bruises and pain.

The attention I receive,

the adoration.

Up on a pedestal I am put

until the next mistake occurs.

But I know I won't die,

and the pain is temporary.

I think.

He grips my arm like I'm his

and his alone.

The anger in his eyes when

another male double-takes in our direction.

Not my fault

and the pain will be temporary.

I think.

Yet I feed off of his pain.

His affection is so much better

than anything I could ever fathom.

It feeds me in a way I can't express.

I need him. I crave him.

And I don't know why.

Two broken people

who need each other to survive.

He needs me. And I am wanted

and loved

and paid attention to

in a way that

may have physical pain,

but it's only temporary.

I'll take it as long as I can be his

and he continues to look at me

in that way

he always does,

burning into my soul

and branding me with his name.

A good pain, because

I know that right after

he'll take care of me

and hold me just like I want.

And need.