She swings on a tree, committed to fear, listens closely as the rain pours near. So far away, the thunder cracks in her head. Covered by terror and haunted thoughts, she looks down and sees she’s swung too far. Touching her leg, she sees all she’s bled from veins that pour out colors other than red.
Like the Garden of Eden, evil hides here. There is little hope, little love, disguised as beauty (a conniving fiend). She sees her evil lurking above— the sun, constellations, a bull fighting hard. Running wild, swinging from leaves, there is more evil that likes to leer. Preying on victims of common descent, an evil named Lox disguised as “persevere”. But there is no such thing, the swinger screams. He’s cunning and bright, though, a deserving dream.
I watch as he overtakes her mind, the thunder no longer quiet, I begin to die.
The Garden of Eden is inside of you— in your head, in your thoughts, through and through. There is an evil, committed to fear, disguised as a girl swinging in trees. Alive and bleeding, pints of sanity lost, fall for innocence, truth, you’ll bear your own cross.
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