One sliver of fear,

One spoonful

Of doubt,

And a pinch

Of insecurity

Are what draw it out;

The recipe for envy

Is a simple one.
 

You fear

The other woman,

With a gaze too magnetic

And a figure too perfect,

You can almost see

The hourglass superimposed

To fit within the lines

Of her frame.
 

It marks

Every agonising second

His eyes linger on her,

Drinking her in

Before blankly revisiting you.
 

And so, a velveteen

Serpentine form will

Ensnare you

With poise

And encircle you

With grace
 

Until venom

Courses through your bloodstream,

And poisonous glances,

Toxic words,

And venom is all that you are.
 

Your thoughts will blur,

While reason dissipates

And the simmering anger

Finally boils over,

Allowing a crimson

So deep to take over,

That when your

Crime of passion

Spills blood,

You don’t even recognise

The walls spattered with red.

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