She had nothing,
not a thing except the act of having nothing,
a fantastic, false sense of ownership
that was enough to keep her captivated.
The force of zealous yearning,
the constant battle between
despair and determination that
coursed through her on a daily basis
was a web she didn’t have the power to,
yet also didn’t necessarily want to,
escape from.
In her mind,
she couldn’t bring herself to
leave a love she’d never had
because she knew
the encapsulating feeling
that came from
having a love so unpossessable
was just as unpossessable
as the sought love itself.