Obsession

Photo by Phil Hearing on Unsplash

I know my inner demon —

it has a shape,
a name,
a voice that calls mine.
It stays dormant
only for a little while.

No matter
what I am doing,
it tends to appear —
uninvited,
and sometimes longed for too.

It makes me cry at times,
but also smile,
or frown,
or ache.
It keeps me distracted,
pulling at my heart
until I don’t know
if anything is real at all.

I know it is unreal —
but I can’t let it go.

One thing I will never tell you

One thing I will never tell you

is that you are strong.

But you may be.

She was.

Stronger than me,

by miles.

I still don’t know how she bore such pain

and stayed kind,

attentive,

listening—

to me.

She held space for my agonies

and offered

tips on surviving

this strange, strange life.

One day I said it.

“Sammy, you are very strong.”

I meant it

with all my heart.

But on the phone,

she paused.

Her voice—

not angry,

just… surprised.

“Of all the people in the world,” she said,

“I didn’t expect this from you.

You never saw the effort

I put in

just to accept things as they are?”

And just like that,

my compliment

became a wound.

I think I hurt her.

So bad.

But she forgave me.

Because that’s who she was.

From that day on,

when I want to say,

“You are strong,”

I stop myself.

Instead, I try—

to see the quiet effort

people make,

to carry their days

without breaking.

Sammy,

that’s just one

of the gifts

you left with me.

If I were a man

 If I were a man,

I think I’d be
more self-centered.
Would that make me feel
better?
Liberated?

Would I stop
caring for others—
just care for myself?

Is it because I'm a woman
that I care too much?
That I cling to order,
to the weight of everything?

If I were a man,
would I feel less stressed?
Would I look at beautiful women,
sip a drink without guilt,
leave when I please,
untethered?

If so—
then maybe,
just maybe,
I'm better off
as a woman.

Because I care.
I stay.
Even when it’s hard,
I hold it all—
so that everything
stays in place.