That garden was never more intoxicating than when you wouldn’t pour me more,
The liquid dripping, honey sweet, from the leaves to my lips,
So, so eager to kiss you…but never allowed to taste.
We always want what we can’t have,
Forbidden fruit, a taste so heavenly it’s sinful
But why did you have to be so damn tempting?
You knew you weren’t mine to have, mine to fall into,
Yet I clung to you like fallen grace, hidden faith.
I let myself fall further and further,
Never caring that this heaven was only built from decay and debris.
You lead me around that garden,
Crossing its borders and edges like a weed,
But I was too distracted by the way your eyes reflected the color on the sky,
That I didn’t notice the vines around my feet,
They cradled me gently, as to not suspect, not to let me think too long about our sin.
Bite into me like I’m the last piece of fruit you’ll ever taste,
And I promise the aftertaste will linger on your tongue for years to come.
(The poison in this apple never made for a fairy tale ending).
I want a piece of your heaven, even if this garden isn’t meant for you, or me…
I’ll always have the memory of what it was like in paradise,
And that is the greatest torment of all.