"Porphyria's Lover"

Written for a kid in one of my classes who wrote a narcissistic anti-feminist poem about the attributes every girl he dates should have (note: he's single)

Dear C;

What’s your definition of perfection?

I see a sunset behind the rising hill

The death of a dozen roses

Hands interlocked in suffocation.

I imagine your ginger hair

Softly stroking her cheek

Breathing in her lyrical ballads;

And ever so often she looks at you

Rays of sunshine glistening in her eyes

Your breathing abruptly stops.

Hold her down, wrap your hands around her neck;

She screams out “Porphyria's lover”

You shove roses in her mouth.

Another petal falls

And you are left to wonder 

Why.