Eden
They said it was eden, that I was the luckiest
That was the place I learned to hide my skin
You found me on the ground, trying to pull my ribs out
You showed me how to bind, feel lighter again
You bound my arms to the bed, said "this is what it is to be wanted"
I thought it was eden again
Twice I'd been given a garden and wilted
I became nothing, just so I could be planted
You found me empty and you liked the dependence
You made me a mockingbird
Autor(es): Printing Shed
