You are mine.

An object of possesion.

I am not yours.

Superior, with thrones on top of stools.

.

Constricting your movement.

I am a Boa, ready to strike

When in terror you flee like a mouse.

You are mine.

.

Clenched fists of frustration

I knew you were upset, steam leaking

from ear to ear, you slap.

pushed back I'm enraged at your wrists grabbed tight.

I am not yours.

.

Heated discussions

rise like plumes of ash

smothering your lungs, I creep

to your side.

You are mine.

.

In public you hide

they never knowing the shadows

that lurk from behind, I am there though,

holding on tight. I am not yours.

But darling, you are definitely mine.