Obsessions

I have, and have had, many obsessions.
I have, and have had, obsessions with
Alluring dark-haired girls with eyes like dark coffee with twice the warmth
Lovely curly-haired girls who laugh at me until they cry when I can't hit a ball
Pretty blond-haired girls who smile self-consciously and don't know they're beautiful
Blushing wispy-haired girls with undercuts whose eyes always change color in the sun

I have, and have had, many obsessions.
I have, and have had, obsessions with
The smell of sticky rice and chicken tikka masala and gulab jamun
The taste of hot injera with shiro and lentils and chickpeas
The sound of lilting violin and cello echoing off the sides of Mount Fuji
The scent of cigarette smoke mixed with chocolate and strawberries

I have, and have had, many obsessions.
I have, and have had, obsessions with
Poetry, and writing, and the sound of my fingers tapping on a keyboard
Music, and history, and the sight of light glowing on a stage
Sports, and martial arts, and the smell of sweat and gatorade and stale brownies
Science, and friends, and the taste of pop-tarts from the vending machine and kisses underneath a streetlight

And maybe all these obsessions I have and have had
Are killing me from the inside—maybe it's too much
For one person to love.
But I have, and have had, so many obsessions
That I suppose I've grown used to living with them
And I am always willing to make room
For more.

I have many obsessions.