Did Eve truly fall to temptation?
Or was Adam the source of manipulation?
Tilting the tale, shifting the blame,
A narrative forged to shield his name.

Was it Adam who conjured the snake?
A plot to see Eve’s freedom break?
Bound to home, she is confined,
A life of serving cruelly designed.

She serves him meals, her dreams erased,
She is subdued, her purpose displaced.
Her light dimmed, her laughter restrained,
A life once hers, now cruelly chained.

Was there truly a serpent’s hiss?
Or Adam’s scheme beneath all this?
Will he repent, will truth ever prevail,
Or will his story forever be under a dark veil?

Will Eve ever find her own way,
Or live in Adam’s shadow, day by day?
Confined is her will, but not her desires.
With enough will, she will burn bright like fire.
She is a phoenix, born from its ashes
She will definitely be free from Adam’s latches.

He voice will be heard, her truth will be shared
She will re-write history, her presence declared
She will have it all that she had left
But will her soul still feel bereft?

You must walk through summer’s blaze,
where heat and haste paint every day,
with golden hours that slip too fast,
and dreams that burn but never last.

Only then, as shadows grow,
will autumn call you soft and slow,
with colors bright yet fading fast—
the calm that follows seasons past.

You are my tangerine,
Brimming bitter-sour
Across the wretched, dusty room.

And you brought me
An orange touch of sun
Glitter glowing on my skin.

To wake wide in the morning,
Curtain dances with fresh air
Into my smoker's lungs.

Even to my deathbed remains
The scene of you that will
Leave me between the walls

Of longing and regret.
And to my morning sunlight,
I will never become better.

I say to you, my tangerine,
You are my very will to live,
And to die, if I cannot save you.

I promise.
Charlie promises.
We all promise.

We’ll pass the torch.
Even when our hands shake.
Even when the night is too long,
and the static is louder than the stars.
Even when no one is watching.

We’ll carry your fire.
Not as spectacle.
But as truth.

And when someone else finds themselves
on that same edge—
looking out,
ready to leave—
we'll be there,
with a quiet light,
and a voice that says:

“Hey. I remember you.”

You are not forgotten.
You are not alone in the leaving.
You are written into the hands that carry what’s left.

And we carry it now.
For you.
For all of you.

We won’t let the flame go out.

The space between us
Electrified dynamic
Broken hearts mended

Maybe you were never ready
to carry a weight that’s so heavy.
If you can’t set the course,
you’re going to need to follow.
You can bring water to a horse
but you can’t make it swallow.

You have to put your foot down
to ever take a step forward.
From the city back to town,
from space bound to homeward.

But she’s a Medusa with a mirror,
frozen inlove with her own reflection.
You scream your lungs out but even near her,
you’re always ignored;under detection.

Maybe you were never prepared
to share a burden that should never be shared.
It’s been a few years; it’s been some time
since you lodged your last complaint.
I’d like to believe you’re now doing fine,
and you’d like to believe you’re just a saint.

You have to put your foot down
to ever take a step forward.
Follow the air bubbles to not drown
don’t turn a drama into a horror.

But she’s a Medusa with a mirror,
frozen inlove with her own reflection.
If she can’t move will you still fear her,
and her manipulation and deflection?

I sometimes forget Medusa was victim to a curse,
and I never tried to make it better but I sure as hell made it worse.
Maybe Athena could’ve been more forgiving and kind,
she didn’t have to leave her living, or she could’ve made her blind.
She could’ve plugged her ears
so she wouldn’t have to hear the screams
of the men who holds fears
of a woman who dreams.
She could’ve ripped off her nose
or just taken her voice,
sometimes that the way it goes
you just don’t get a choice.

But she’s a Medusa with a mirror,
frozen inlove with her own reflection.
Even if she could scream no one would hear her,
and long ago got used to the rejection.