Part of my final poetry portfolio in the class FA-CW 103.1: Introduction to Poetry Writing

I want her.

I want her by my side all times, to have my skin
 touch hers in every possible way. I want to
 love her and cherish her
 and keep her away from harm.

I want to show her my love.

I want to devour her through fervent kisses
 and leave her body aching after a night with me.
 I want my bites to leave imprints on her body.

I want to mark her as mine.

I want to be able to silence her with a kiss
 from my fist as much as one from my lips.

I want to be able to leave blacks,
 purples, and blues on her snow white skin
 like an artist could on a blank canvas.

I want to monopolize her.

I want to be able to control who she talks to,
 who she interacts with. Only me, only me.
 I want to keep her locked up so that no one
 could defile her beauty. Only I can, only I will.

I want to break her.

I want to break down her resolve so that
 she knows that her place is with me. I want to be able
 to push her down and thoroughly ravish her
 with no chance of hearing protest.

I want to be able to move her any way I want
 like a puppeteer could a marionette.

I don’t want people prying.

I don’t want them trying to find out
 about what we truly have—this bond,
 this connection that knows no bound.

I don’t want them lusting over
 her beauty that’s only for me. I’d blind
 them twice over if they so much as dare
 to dishonor her by raking
 their eyes over such elegance.

I don’t want to hear her cries.

Her beauty won’t be tarnished
 if I made slight adjustments. I don’t
 want to hear the lies coming out
 of her kissable lips.

I don’t want to hear her lying
 about wanting to get away from me.

The red that leaked out from parted lips
 was as good as lipstick goes anyway.

I don’t want her to be tempted to leave.

She’s still as beautiful as the day I met her.
 Never mind the bleeding stubs
 where some of her limbs used to be.

I don’t want her thinking
 that it’s a good thing
 to get away from me.

I want her to stay with me.

And it seems that she wants the same thing,
 as she lies pliant in my arms with not a peep
 escaping her luscious lips, we are in bliss.