Possession (Poetry)

Indelible, the mark you left on me
although the mirror won’t admit it’s there —
it aches upon my skin —
the pressure like a brand
that love has burned, slow-smouldering
and vivid underneath its secret veil.

Moods change its scarlet shape —
a self-renewing bruise
triumphant in longevity
and resistant to efforts to erase
this tagged emotion etched so deep —
the need to belong to you.

You can’t deny sole ownership —
possession being nine tenths of the law —
but I’m petitioning for freedom
seeking how I might undo your claim on me —
sever unseen ties, withstand the mental sting of surgery
without a lasting scar.