CHAPTER 7

One day. 

An accursed day, 

My family 

Wanted me to visit. 

With their smugness 

They knew I was a loser 

And that I'd achieved 

Nothing, unlike them. 

I would've gone alone 

But She insisted to go too. 

Who was I to refuse? 

Who was I at all anymore? 

Though we arrived 

Dressed in our best clothes, 

Awkward and improper, 

But we were together. 

I could understand my family's eyes 

Judging me and Her, 

But She grasped my hand, whispering, 

"It will be okay, my Dear." 

Then Mother, 

Full of pride and ego, 

Decided to 

Make a comment or two. 

"Look at you, my Son, 

Filthy and poor! 

I see it as shameful to admit 

That you came from me! 

You're pathetic! 

A waste! 

Worth no more than a worm, 

Or a rat in the dirt!" 

Honestly I was used to this 

As it was the same thing 

Mother'd been saying for years 

Since my childhood. 

I always was 

The most hated child. 

But then She, 

Like more of a Mother 

Than my own, 

Stood up for me, saying, 

"How dare you! 

That's your Son! 

Your own flesh and blood, 

He is from you! 

How can you say 

Such terrible things? 

He may not be perfect for you, 

He may not be good for you, 

But he is perfect for me, 

He is all I ever need!" 

Mother laughed 

And said, 

"No wonder my Son is perfect 

For some cheap, gross whore!" 

She stood up 

And threw a glass of wine 

In Mother's face 

As She hissed with rage. 

She grabbed my arm 

And pulled me 

Outside into the cold 

And uttered, 

"Forget them, 

Forget everyone, 

Forget the world, 

Forget anyone else. 

All you need is me 

And all I need is you. 

You are mine 

And I am yours. 

I am your slave and master 

And you are my slave and master. 

I am your goddess 

And you are my god." 

I could not move, 

I was too scared. 

This woman that stood before me, 

Who was She? 

Was She still the woman I fell in love with 

So many years ago? 

I could no longer say no 

To this mad goddess. 

My Insane, Obsessive Sweetheart, 

Rosie.