Mine.

Can I shield you from the charms?

Of every girl who wants to make you laugh,

And raise fond memories that you shared,

As childhood friends or something more.

How do I show them that you’re mine?

Can I do that, would you mind?

Put an end to their endless rants,

About how you shared sweet days gone by.

Can you ebb the jealous fire,

That consumes me every time

 you speak of that girl you work with,

or the one you went to school with,

or someone who writes well, and you appreciate

them for who they are?

I know it is blind ire,

I want to possess you,

I know how wrong it is.

And yet, I wonder how I can own you.

I want to keep away from the niggling

shadow of doubt,

That seems to chase me

in whatever concerns you.

I despise those girls,

who think they have a right on you,

who think that they can write for you

songs of love, hoping you will waver.

I know it is irrational,

But what if it isn't, what if it’s true?

Maybe it isn't just a jealous rage

of a girl madly in love;

a girl who cannot have enough of you, but

I’m just a girl who wants the world to know

You’re mine.