Our Eden

Love, Hate, and a Garden

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Whether it was on a walk

our hands bound together

Or a nap, 

as I slept to your steady breathing

It was perfect. 


A dinner of steak, medium-rare

My heels high, your tie fastened 

Or cold pizza

Your hair a compass leading everywhere,

my T-shirt oversized and wrinkled

It was perfect. 


You and I

Together yet alone,

it was just us.

It was perfect. 


It was perfect until, 

she convinced you to take a bite of her,

made you think I would understand.


It was my only condition.

Our one commandment together, broken,

I became naked. 

For you were my skin,

my bone.


At first, you tried to hide it from me

but I see without eyes.

You asked for my forgiveness, 

I heard but refused. 


For I saw what you changed into. 

She had clothed you with her venomous words

until you became her.

And when she became you with another,

you begged to sit in my garden again.


But I had closed my marrow gates

to you and you alone.

The garden now felt empty,

one left in a place for two.


Our hands unbound,

I fell asleep to my own breathing.

Heels behind closed closet doors

and dinner for one.

Truly alone. 

It was no longer perfect. 

Elise Spiller
Elise Spiller

College student who loves to read and write. Despite being quiet and shy, I love deep conversation and reading/writing raw, personal material. 

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Our Eden