A Collection of Poetry (For You)

Bridge

One step on caused a creak that sent the wanderer jumping back. Not yet, she said.

Anger pushed her farther onto the wooden path, ignoring the creak and threat to fall out beneath her. But she stopped partway to look back. Not yet, she said.

She walked back to where she came from, but not completely. She stood at the edge, begging something there to pull her back, to make her stay. Nothing did, and sadness drove her back to the wood. Okay, she said.

Pieces were missing, they've fallen out as the path began to collapse with each attempt at return. She'd have to jump. I can't, she said.

When she turned around again, she heard from the starting point a voice, but it was distant. It was very unlike the voice she was used to. It pushed her away the more it tried to comfort her. Forget, she said.

Then she leapt.