Garden Full Of Snakes

Writing

In my garden there are snakes now, they slither softly upon the silk green blades leaving behind soothing and sinister symphonies. They are always hidden until it is when I am most weak and vulnerable. I once believed they were friends, companions that I could depend on and rely upon to be there for me. I was simply wrong. They were all after something slowly slithering their way into my soothing silken words of empathy. They arc forward and pounce toward my heart and sink their fangs of hopeless abandon into it. I feel drained, my mind and heart are weary from catering to the whims and giving my experienced thought and intellect to the deaf ears of angst filled teens. They seek the advice yet refuse to heed what it all means. So the venom they infect me with slowly begins to harm me. Their venoms slowly infect my blood streams I become weak and fall to my knees and soon enough to the ground. I had known they were only out to harm me yet how could I prevent the inevitable? I begin to see blurred lines between friend and stranger; my vision is blurry as I lay within the gardens soft evergreen grass. The snakes turn and head for the glazed fence and begin to find their exits as I still lay on the ground infected with disease that they injected me with. Rain begins to fall and embeds me. I slowly begin to shut my eyes hoping that someone enters this beautiful garden that I call home. The serenity of my garden has been destroyed the peace that I once fought so tirelessly against myself to attain has been decimated by mistaken trust.

I shall lie upon this grass and let the rain cover me in its cold and loving shroud until I find the will to stand up and return the beauty and peace back to my garden.

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