Emerald Skin

 

The painting is a scream

and I am the pain within.

The image seen is forest green,

and I'm emerald skin. Blending in.

A chameleon.

Feeling - lost - in my soul,

I don't feel whole, only empty

when my world doesn't spin

and there is no empathy.

When my orbits have all stalled.

Just four walls and my thoughts

through which to crawl.

 

Just a silent whisper

and empty drawl

when no one visits,

or decides to call.

 

I'm motionless.

Dulled emotion costs less

than a sea of ferocious waves.

So I turn off every heartbeat.

Becoming a monument

of worthlessness.

A ripple on a dead sea.

A momentary flicker,

then an eternity of emptiness.

 

The sculpture is an angel weeping,

but the world is sleeping and dreaming

of her wings soaring free. And in her eyes

I see the light of a star, a power beyond,

a beholder of untold futures. A fortune teller,

A dream seller, and I'd sail those stories

with my boat untethered.

 

I'd be a devout worshipper,

down on my knees. As free as a man

can ever be, yet still tied to the thoughts,

like the tide to the sea.

 

And I stare at the satellite sky,

starlight in my eyes. Eating

every memory - a meal of jealousy.

For it seems so easy for you to be you,

and it tastes bitter to me.

That I'm fighting to breathe.

I let the thoughts drift with me, crying.

And I try to believe. I want to believe.

For if I believe I'll be

set free from the fear

that makes a meal out of me.

 

Meet me after midnight,

long after twilight has been and gone.

When it is just me and the

tears I've cried, then I'll share my heart,

and you will understand

why my fear feels blue.

For inside I hold a supernova

of untapped possibility, if I just let

go of my armour. And hold tightly to amore.

 

A flash as a star burns bright

before fading to dust -

the golden colour of trust

sprinkles from high.

 

And yellow sits in my belly

for fear turns blue.

Green combined they tell the truth.

I'm jealous of the world I can't view

because my colourblind eyes

see in tones so different to you.

 

And the painting no longer cries

in blue tears, but smiles,

in rainbow delight, for hope drifts

oblivious to fear, and I see the night,

The colours she delivers,

and the jealous heart never felt this

alive. So the pain runs like ink

from my skin, embracing the

world that shines within.