Poems for the Sad and Weary

Bridges

The golden rule of life is that
You have to get over things quick and fast
Or face the consequences of leaving your heart to wander
The endless plain of broken hearts. Last

December's worth of things are not meant
To be mulled over like an anniversary,
So I learned the art of building bridges
Over deadly waters so I no longer spiral into memories of my adversary.

In any case, I've become pretty good at bridges,
Even the game, in fact. Deception is handy
When it comes to second guessing an opponent
And better their loss than mine. Everything was dandy

And beautiful until, well, until I met you.
Then formulas became useless, game plans have to be changed
And no matter what I did, there was just nothing I could do
To entangle you out of my mind. You claimed

A territory that I could not construct a pathway over
And everyday you spend in that space
Means twenty-four hours filled with an ache
That I cannot dissolve because there is nothing but waste

Below. I can no longer build bridge
And as you linger, I realize how life seems so much brighter
When the heart is on the brink of breaking,
The edge of a cliff teetering. You're a fighter

And I am no match for you. Let the waters
Wash away any attempt of mine because
This matter of the heart has no room
For man-made shortcuts that I once was.