it is irrational
this green
leaf lurking behind
the ivory of my
mist smile
white clouds of calm
confidence
faked so well i could have
almost fooled myself
if i didn't know
the emerald of green was
beating me a lullaby
of curse words
aimed as a dagger for her neck
ready to impale should any
mention of her name
resound in my ear;
i tell it to go away but it's too late
for that now, i've had too many
affairs with the creature
it's come to know the taste of my skin
and the leaves of my hair
the twigs of my trees and the vines
of my truths are so wound within it
that it convinces me i was always a bad person —
it presses into my insecurities and doubt
plays the devil's advocate
whispers in my ears things i shouldn't hear
and yet i listen, lips curling into a snarl
heart coiling a fist
you're the only one that makes everything right
in a world gone wrong, and there's a green
lurking within that doesn't want
anything or anyone
to hint that our love isn't forever
for i'd have that monster slay them before the
words ever left their lips.
Photograph & make-up: Lauren Forte & Khalida Ali
Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in many magazines and in print.