The colour of lime | by Gianna Rosina

What a bitterness-

a tang.

 

It scalds my eyes like

A lover`s smoking vehemence.

 

Every drop scorns those retinas

 

Is this what jealousy feels like?

 

The squeeze of the acid,

That burn of the lip?

 

Green flesh is scraped,

Under my nail beds.

 

As I see his irises,

They mock me.

 

She is thin,

A pale lipped allure.

 

If this is at the end of loving one,

Take my emotions away.

 

Cast them into a wooden box,

Burn them if you must.

 

Take your hand and poke holes in my bosom.

 

Pour that poison that spews from your touch,

And get it away from my body.

 

This colour of crimson has turned into a murky obsidian.

 

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Gianna Rosina is an artist and aspiring costume designer. Her artwork has been featured in Porridge Magazine. She enjoys watching old Hollywood films, reading extensively complex novels, and has a english bulldog named Elvis. 

 

 

 

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