The Creator

I’m almost certain god created me in his image, because why else would I create a world that replicates my point of view of what I define beauty is.  Why else is it hard for me to control my passion and script every bit of my emotions publicly. It must explain the thunder in me that screams at times, but I know if I put more of a show on I will light up the sky with the hopes of Eve noticing me. I created you in my world and watched you develop so beautifully. I watched you closely as you would eat fruit from the garden, and how well your beauty would blend with the painted flowers and weeds that you would on occasion dance in. At times you would call me when you were down and when you would cry, secretly so would I, which might explain the rain of tears. As the creator I fell in love with my creation and couldn’t help to stand back in regret while you fall in love with Adam, but I do understand I created him as well and can only blame myself.