bridges
i.
some burn bridges
to keep some distance,
i burn bridges
to stop myself from crossing them.
the smoke still chokes me,
i am made of flame and ashes.
the more bridges i burn,
the more trapped i get.
ii.
humans are made of kindling,
but what is stronger than a human
heart?
beat up and beat up again,
steady rhythm keeps matches
lighting one after another.
(sometimes,
i'd rather have a wood heart instead)
i burned bridges,
my fingers are charred ashes.
iii.
my lungs fill with smoke,
my cells pulse of carbon dioxide,
my bones are wood,
my eyes are embers.
it is when you've burned so many
bridges that the last victim
is yourself.
YOU ARE READING
watercolor thoughts [completed]
Poesíapoetry by a painter who now paints her art in words "we tread too loudly, too violently on our earth. we smear our dark, ugly night all over the canvas and call it art." #80 in poetry [12/22/16] | © 2016 lookforthatlight