...The story of a girl in London, England


3.12.2011

Sonnet 15

3/11/11

Obsessed. It never crossed my mind—that’s how

Obsession goes. You do it, do it, and

It seems so natural to you. Allowed

To fester, fostered there—that grain of sand,

So simple, lodged within your shoe, you start

To scratch and scrape and kick and shake, (to no

Avail, it’s true), and yet it plagues you. Mark,

That soon enough a shaking habit shows

To all the rest—and never once to you.

Eventually the rock is gone, and yet

The tick remains. It’s got out of your shoe

Somehow, and in your mind it stays. You fret

Until you learn how to forget instead.

Till someone sees it there, inside your head.

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