I’ve been growing myself green,
in hopes that you would consume me.
Painted myself like grass,
in hopes that you would feed (from) me.
Distilled myself and poured into a glass,
I hoped that you would drink (from) me.
I curled and rolled and burned,
hoping that you would breathe me.
I earned these shades of green;
a private jungle was waiting for you.
I saved honeydews for later,
hoping you’d get hungry.
I spent days rotting, aged beyond the palate,
in hopes that you’d quench my thirst.
Too invested, with no return–my green
washed out and shriveled up.
Atlantis was green too, and like it
I’m drowning now, in shades of blue.