I once lived by a tree. The tree was filled with fruit of light and dark. Carved across the canvas of the tree it read, "Do not touch." I was tempted but I knew to avoid it.
Every day I saw the tree but I continued on by. Then one day there sat a boy with eyes that stared at me like a snake's tail. He snatched one of the fruit and bit into it like a shark. He picked another fruit and tossed it my way with a smirk like a spider's web. The fruit was too enticing, the scent too intoxicating, and the colors too addicting. But the taste that met my lips, oh that taste was a firework of destructive deliciousness and of regretful romance. My heart sank from the sudden weight and my mind was spinning in chaotic confusion but I still wanted more sweet sabotage of sight.
I rushed to share this savory sin. With a few persuasive words he indulged in the fruit too. Our eyes locked in the same giddy greed from the newfound knowledge. We danced in delirious discovery and bathed in bloody beauty.
But soon the taste faded. As did the blindsided bliss. I was left in grief and shame over my mistake. I realized too late that I tattooed time with tainted paint.