Thoughts for my Stalker

Confused - how closely entwined
are love and hate;
living at the edge of Manhattan,
gazing at the towers from just across the river
in Hoboken?

A switch in the brain, that,
once flipped,
can't stand the sight of what you once loved,
but still, obsessively,
follows unseen.

Funny how you were never this interested when I was yours.

Unhealthy - though I write this for you,
my stalker, this is directed at you,
I know you're there,
and that you care,
but beware:

Remember, now you are prepared,
and I ask you not to go looking for me again.
"It does not do
to dwell on dreams
and forget to live."