There was a time
I dreamed of having a stalker.
You know,
Someone who really took an interest in me.
A man willing to wait outside  buildings with a baseball bat to scare off anyone who thought they’d have my hand.
How endearing,
I used to think.
Lurking in the shadows
Memorizing every inch of my existence
Waiting for the perfect moment to capture me
And never let me go.                                         Going out of his way to build a cage, just for me.                                     Endless praise for not using my brain,                                         Always obeying his ways.
To go to all that trouble?            He’d have to care!

I look back now with gut churning wonder,
At what age did love and ownership become  synonymous?