Jealousy is a terrible thing.
That bilious shade of green
Rising in ones mind like vomit, sour.
It clouds sight, judgement
A suffocating, red fog
Like friction to dry, dead sticks
It agitates, inflames, consumes.
Jealousy is a terrible thing
Precious as the rarest of emerald
Ascending in ones heart like the stem of a
Rose, petals of priceless colour
It sees only her, clear and true, mine alone.
A breath of sweet air
To lighten the soul, intensify the senses.
That base feeling, instinctual
What’s mine is mine,
Not yours.
Death your reward for taking,
That which is not yours.
Jealousy, mutual, ours
I am hers, let it be known
Ware your affections of her,
Lest you find
The wolf’s jealous jaws,
About your throat.
She is mine, entire.
She is mine, eternal.
She is mine.
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