I play it off as joke
“Old man with greasy hair and green skin as a husband!”
But little know the truth behind it

The torture I relate to.

Not as harsh as him,

But still relatable.

How much can a white little girl

see herself in a green old man.

His green skin I refer to a lot.

That tough exterior,

Skin layered with humor,

Muscles built to deflect when they get too close,

Hardened bones to make the outburst hurt.

But the heart is full of un-finished thoughts,

Unprocessed feelings,

And quiet, lonely sobs.

It feels dangerous as we hold the same cross with different sides.

But all together,

It’s sad I’ll never feel this way towards someone who’s real.

My boyfriend comes close,

But that damn ugly, green, fictional bassist.

It’s a pathetic feeling to write a poem for such a person,

“Cringe”

“Weird”

“Obsessive”
“Brain defective”

But it’s also weird he’s saved my life.

Someone who has green skin,

Saved my life.

A chaotic 60 year old.

Saved my life.

An alcoholic with no mother,

Saved my life.

Everything’s a bit weird,

Afterall, nothing normal about him,

So neither is my attachment to him.

Happy birthday,

To: green skinned man

From: unseen white kid.

(6/6/26)