He's put her up on a cross.

She doesn't go to church like everyone else.
She doesn't wear a dress for Easter like everyone else.
She doesn't recite the same verses like everyone else.
She doesn't have the mimicked ideas they all borrow.

In class she doesn't get the allusion to the bible.
She must research.
Though in class there's a boy who says her name sweetly.
In class there's a boy who took her out on a date.
In class there's a boy who took a chance on the girl in all black.
In class there's a boy who whispered all his passions into the palm of her hand.
Will you still love me in the morning?

Standing in the corridors of the temple he knows so well,
he becomes acquainted with the illusion he pushed away.
It is forbidden to love her.
For she is not on the same page as they all are when the service is in place.

He loses the sense of morality.
He doesn't understand her version of faith.
He distrusts in all of her arguments.
He believes she's tricked him into loving her.
He concludes that he couldn't have loved her on his own.
She tricked him.
This isn't him. It just can't be him.
He crushes her bones.
He ignores her screams.
He finishes his prayer.

And there she dangled, his eyes angled up to her own.

He put her on the cross.