Jealousy, for some it’s serpent green, coils around the heart, constricting breath, lungfuls into parts. But, Hope, for me it’s amber, she’s millions of years old, and so much she has captured she’s not a gem but like royalty she’s treated as such. Hate, for me, deep red, blood-like, thickened, coagulating, too thick to even be dripping. Sunshine yellow Joy, brightened, bold she screams daisies and wattles and pollen and bees bees bees who hunt all on their own. Panic, sheer panic a crimson mixed with mauve and deep purple, they clash, no jiving, but oh, they make me feel so riled. Anxiety is blue, a strange colour, I’d usually assign it to melancholy, depressive hues, but this blue is muddy it’s unpleasant, makes me squirm, uncomfortable, I want to kick away the irksome gloom, wish for another less patent leathery day. And Mania, she's all shades of fluro, all colours of the rainbow glaring and glowing, she stings my irises constrict my pupils her presence is a hindrance but she's utterly tempting; I stare and stare… But Jealousy, he wants to lead the pack, Why? His neck coils around mine decorating me like a Medusa after the fact I hiss him away I don’t need us to conjoin or with my innocent heart forcefully entwine. I want my moods and colours, to remain with me in compartmentalised ways, each mood and hue have its own place, I lay my head down to rest, I’ll experience the colours another day. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by Pexels from Pixabay
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Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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