Sufjan.

A secret garden.
And when you run to me in midnight fields
My chapped shell,my fragile sheild
Your golden coat of hair scatters on my sholder.
You laugh at me now.
And i had let you in
The crumble of nonexisting life within
Your father's cold steel gun caresses
My back,my flesh, my kidnys.
But i have a bike , and it has a back seat,
And i have my sheild , so i'll grab you
And your disstressed dress and goldrn tumble of curls
And softly elope, disapear into the infinty of space reflected on our pond.
You could tell me of your thought and opinions.
You could tell me of how idiotic it is to have any.
of why you want to leave unditictedly
Like a whisper, whithout touching or being touched.
A cold forgotten crumble of bones.
But now i am alone.
Now there are my bones untouched.
my silint internal explosions.
And befor you invaded my hous next door.
Befor you scatted all over my back-bycicle seat.
Befor you murderd my secret garden.
It were the emptiness and liflessness, the freezing
Cold alaska within that i feared.
And now you walk away laughing, and i am inflamed
Sit on a deep avalanch, lava hot fire.
But is it the ungrown fruit? Is it my immasculinity?
Maybe you were just a mad, foolish little girl, being constantly raped.
Maybe you just wanted to rape somone too.