I think of that green eyed
jealousy eating your heart.
The bitter pill that slides down your throat into your stomach acids. It rattles like dried peas
in a metal tube. Your fingers fret strands of my hair and I wince in agony. I am desperate to be held by another. To mix in with the marrow of their bones. But you are emerald and full of poisons. Spreading a plague of pitiness. I hold your hand in mine, still, but I pray for broken bones. Fractures. Splinters. Nails ripped clean off and blood. Thick, warm blood.