If Envy is Green

If envy is green,
Then what colour is jealousy?


Jealousy is purple,
A dark-blooded, foreboding purple,
A potion brewed and fought over.
Suspicion? A dullish brown,
Growing dirtier as time flows.


Anger is black, not red.
Anger walks beside me on its four legs,
Snarling, rabid,
Seeking to bite and tear apart,
What slim tapestry a lifetime has wrought.


Despair has no colour,
No life,
No hue,
No plan of plan,
Save a tight holding on to the fear within,
The fear that screams yellow,
As sirens strike and panic descends.


Lust is also black: anger’s friend,
A black, dwelling, pin-point intensity,
A dry-mouthed thirst, never quenched.
Pain, a suspended white,
That strikes with venom flowing,
No off switch to save the day.
No off switch at all.


But what of friendliness? Happiness? Love?


Friendliness is a lime green.
A warm summer’s breeze,
Rolling across open fields to greet me.


Happiness is transparent,
Clear like burbling water,
Flows of the freshest spring.


Love, today, is blue,
A pure, crystal, sky blue,
Of hope and mornings,
Of sweetness and clarity,
Of salvation and promise.


Love, today, is you.

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