The Futility of Obsession

I felt like my own hands drowned him.

Drove him underwater.

My hands turned into claws,

Scratching the surface of his heart,

Wanting more, wanting something else.

I refused to let him come up for air.

I besieged his body and wouldn’t let go.


I heard that jealousy is stronger than love.

Both resulted in annihilation.

Disappearing drops on the ground.

I remember the water, the body had dissolved,

He escaped the world we had created.

And I would go back to him in prayer.

A prayer spiralling down, helpless and defeated.


I wanted to penetrate the earth hands forward.

The lack of substance terrified me.

The lack of his scent in the air that I swallowed.

I feared the return of emptiness that preceded him.

Within me had been enough space to contain him fully.

The sense of my own nothingness and the bits that departed with him

Couldn’t be real; yet I felt like I had discarded myself wholeheartedly.


“Queen Marie of Romania, née Princess Marie of Edinburgh” by Philip de László (1869-1937)


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