Burning Bridges

What I want most is for these old songs to remind me of someone else.

For the scars on my hands to bring back memories of when I wasn’t fighting for your attention.

I wish the blood that burns in my face would be still when you’re around.

That my knees would buckle less when you catch my eye before casting it aside.

I want to break free from the cord that tightens round my chest every time you walk away.

I wish I could dream a little less and live a little more.

I want these old songs to stop dredging memories of you from the river’s depths.

That’s why I burned the bridge.

Because I’m worth more than the compounding list of could-have-beens dissolving into never-weres.

They fall like ashen snowflakes all around as the bridge is violently consumed.

I just wish these old songs would stop reminding me of you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s