there is nothing “really” about you
an empty vessel and a tearless face
and you were created a body
but they didn’t finish the soul
it’s my love that exists
at the bottom of the pretty lake
and you will never find roses
in that garden of mine
because i was never yours to take
i became nothing but a desire;
merely a dream that lives inside the forbidden fruit
so you poisoned my ecosystem
as you pricked yourself on the lonesome thorns
and in the end
you were nothing but a ****
that existed in me —
the eden