I built my bridges when I was small;
A tiny thing - 4 feet tall.
At 13 I thought I wouldn't need anymore -
My bridges are study and will not fall.
At 13 and a half, my first bridge fell.
It spiralled down to the depths of Hell,
A fiery blaze that naught could quell...
It seems my bridges don't take fire well.
Now I'm caught where naught can stand,
A matchstick in my shaking hand -
There's one last bridge upon my land.
I'll burn this bridge until it's sand.
A/N because I get super pissed when people say 'Build a bridge and get over it'. Because the only thing I can do is burn my bridges.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming off the Cliff
PoetryPoetry assembled from the very depths of a deranged mind. Trigger warning. Tragedy ensues.
