Eve

On Monday, God created the Heavens and the Earth.

Made the seas bright blue,

painted the night sky a shade of black,

the stars white and yellow tears on the

faces of his angels, beaten blue.

On Tuesday, God made man.

Gave him the garden of Eden,

the beautiful bounty of life

that was his creation.

Not a worry for man because

this was paradise in the dark,

black and white, monochromatic

universe of God.

On Wednesday man complained.

Too lonely.

Too fragile.

Not enough to do.

No one to do.

Nothing to occupy himself with.

Too emotional to carry the burden of life alone.

Pleaded for someone to carry it for him.

God created Eve.

The gorgeous rib of man made the gorgeous,

pale skin of woman.

God said unto thee,

Take this woman for she is yours,

for she is made of your bone,

she is owned by your skin.

On Thursday, Eve noticed fruit beyond the horizon.

That maroon color of citrus turned her curious.

Drove man crazy.

Curious is for God.

For men.

Men get lonely and make women.

Women get lonely and go find something

worthwhile.

Eve ate that fruit.

Bit into it like God was right beside

her, damning her to Hell,

if women were to be owned by men

then what kind of paradise could this be anyways.

On Friday Eve was punished.

Her man would be the victor,

her always the victim,

but never forgetting that

she ate that fruit on her own.

Ate that fruit by herself

without a man telling her

to watch where she stepped.

She'll step anywhere she pleases these days.

On Saturday they multiplied.

Little boys and girls scattered

the Earth like wind-up toys

wound up by God.

Eve cared for them.

Man left her alone.

Didn't say goodbye in the mornings.

Didn't say hello in the evenings.

Showed his temper in the night.

Smacked her when she didn't

feel like it that night.

Shook her when she said enough was enough.

Beat her when she said she never loved him.

Eve was alone with her thoughts

in the afternoon.

Alone with her nightmares in the night.

On Saturday night she noticed

the black and blue marks

of God in the Earth.

Wondered why paradise looked so much like

the bruises that covered her body.

Wondered where His inspiration came from.

Did hell look like the color of skin.

Did heaven turn into the color of her blood

once she reached those gates.

If Earth was paradise where was her happy-ending.

On Sunday man rested.

Eve got up early.

Made breakfast.

Said her “I love you's” in spite.

Did not kiss her man when he awoke.

Did not say “Amen” after breakfast was served.

Did not thank her man when he swept up the kitchen.

She had to do it again anyways.

Eve did not care to live.

Eve was damned to hell.

And this is where hell shall be.

Author's Note

Early stage of a poem I'm working on. Comments are appreciated!