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his walls are painted green
by Ava Blu
she is not a better version of me
with her abyss lips taking too long to curl,
using her eyes as an offering;
those eyes are not her own, taken from some priceless painting she couldnt live without
and he thinks she is better
taking it all in with a sip of ginger tea
medicinal purposes she does not possess
but he feeds on her skin
as if it is the bite of an apple he was told would keep the doctor away
he is sickly green
skinny hair and broken feet
while she carries the words above his reach
this is the game he chooses to play
thinking her alligator teeth can only poison his enemies
waiting for him to fall asleep, she crawls under the bed
to turn into the ashes of her ex-lovers
careful to not let him sense their burnt hearts
I am just enough out of sight
to make it easier for her to blend
I am the one flapping around the vents in their room
changing the colors of their walls to camouflage my jealousy
but he sees me sometimes
I catch him staring too long through the slits
and she, this vixen of chance and opportunity,
finally caught on
and filled my space with concrete
forcing me to glimpse from 200 miles
at the better version of a life
I was never able to lie about.
09/30/2006 Posted on 10/01/2006
Copyright © 2026 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 10/02/06 at 12:05 AM "changing the color of their walls to camouflage my jealousy." seems to sum this poem up for me! I hear a very loud, "Meow!" Striking symbolism very effective. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 10/02/06 at 02:16 PM Nicely put together. And I really like the images in the last stanza, too. |
| Posted by Cristy M. on 12/12/06 at 09:58 PM i know what it feels like. she is not the better version of me either. she is old and he is young. he only left me and then had her because she has a house and i didn't have mine yet. she gives him puppies and i have one cat and a dead dog--he didn't even know she passed. yea, i know how it feels BUT...i want to offer you some criticism too: it's very heated and, in it's very present anger, it's also a bit in disarray which, knowing you, a little bit of editing and reconstructing line breaks, will work wonders. also, i think some time has passed since the last time you worked on this (publication date and all) and i think it would help to think in terms of sound...again, you've heard all my best advice...sing it, don't scream it. soft sounds make daggers in the hearts of boys and men. |
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