Bridge Burning
Spark. Light. Red. Stare.
Flame stings my eyes,
As I hold the lit torch,
The one with your name on it,
Over a bridge we built together.
I stare at the flames,
At my reflection,
Glowing hotter one moment,
Then dying the next.
You said words like gasoline to me,
Lighting a fire to my heart,
You always were a shooting star,
Shoot first, ask later.
But look at what’s left,
I can only tame my side,
You still have to cross,
Do you even still want to?
What would it matter,
If we all fall down,
Caring solo is isolating work,
And I’m tired of creaking.
I’ve no shortage bridges,
In upright condition,
But yours was special,
Because it just was.
Your chemical make-up,
Left a reaction on my cheeks,
Like thermite in my chest,
I was already burned to cinders.
I cannot take the burning,
I cannot take it alone,
You must feel it too,
I can’t be the only one who hurts!
But…
My fingers cannot release,
My hands cannot detach,
My soul cannot forsake.
I see your mark still,
On the bridge post,
Which pulls my hand back,
Stalling something stupid.
Am I so easy?
Am I so cheap?
Succumbing to bread crumbs?
Settling for love kernels?
Is hope foolish?
Is hope naive?
Is hope holding a torch in hand,
Unable to burn a bridge that you should?
It is so easy to burn a bridge,
I understand why bridges burn,
Dramatic measures for reaction,
But we all end of covered in ashes.
