and I don't know if this is a poem, but I wrote it 12 years ago

the "she" in this piece is not an actual woman, but a symbol for the experience of obsession that I've had in the past. see what you think...

obsession

it begins harmlessly enough. a thought. a smile to
myself. secret self-satisfaction and a subtle
sweetness i cannot name. the thought comes again.
bigger. louder. more colorful. my heart squeezes in
my chest. my mind pumps out a thought again. she is
always there, but i don't always know it, until...
there it is again, sudden, like a knock on a door. i
don't want to answer and keep thinking these
thoughts. but she's there. i can always feel her; i
know she's there though i don't always see her. i
like it. the feeling always makes me feel alive. i
want it, the something to think about, look at,
listen to inside my head. my heart races. the spiral
starts. she is walking in circles in my mind,
looking through windows into my inner life. she is
barefoot. i feel her toes curl inside my inner skin.
she is vivid and lovely. she runs her fingers along
the wall as she walks, moves silently and
stealthily, planning her next attack. she is always
there, behind every corner of my mind, ready to show
me her wares, ready to whisper to me. she looms
large; i fear i'll never think of anything else
again. she is close, teasing me. i feel her breath
inside the nape of my neck. i shudder. she isn't
real although i can smell her. what i wouldn't give
to have her, right in front of me. what i wouldn't
give if she thought of me as i think of her. up all
night, sleepless, composing endless letters,
daydreaming and wishing for me. if i were that one,
what would i do? would i run? would i hide? would i
go inside my mind and meet her in hers? pick up the
scent she left behind to guide me to where she is...
she eludes me. teases. loves the attention.