Bridges

You say,

bridges are built,

so him and her

could cross rivers over,

in order to hold hands,

even for a brief moment.

You say,

these steel and concrete giants

are here to remind us

of all the forced decisions

we took,

because we had to,

as we march across the cement pavements,

reaching destinations,

A to B.

You say,

bridges are built,

so we could brush our lives across

these passing strangers,

in order to forget

how does it feel to be neglected

by the one

you loved the most.

You know.

the one, that got away…

I say,

my bridges are not here

for getting over.

They’re here to be burnt,

brick after brick,

to keep me warm.

Hand me the matches.

Please.

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