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The boy is mine
Publié le 3 nov. 2025
Mis à jour le 3 nov. 2025
Développement personnel
1 min
Développement personnel
Publié le 3 nov. 2025
Mis à jour le 3 nov. 2025
1 min
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The boy is mine
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To you, who makes me obssessed like a fcking psycho.
I haven’t met him yet
But I already know the weight of his presence.
The idea of him moves through me like a song I can’t stop humming.
He exists in fragments:
A name, a voice I’ve never heard,
A silhouette that keeps me awake.
I build him piece by piece ;
His laughter, his scent,
The warmth of his hand that I’ve never held.
And the more I invent,
The more real he becomes.
He doesn’t know it yet,
But he’s already feeding me ;
Each thought, each trace,
A spark to keep my obsession breathing.
I don’t fall in love; I fixate.
I orbit. I study.
And if he ever starves me of attention,
I’ll find another gravity to drown in.
That’s how I work :
by obsession.
So even now,
Before the first glance,
Before the first word :
The boy is mine.
Linthong
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