Standing in the middle of a bridge I should have burned a long ago I watch the water running swiftly below
My heart is torn and twisted like an old dollar bill
The wind sings a soft melody that forces my mind to fall back to a time when I wondered who could take a heart and rip it apart
Like an old dollar bill discarded by someone who didn’t know what it was like to go hungry
It’s been a long cold winter but I have resigned myself to not getting warm because I know I have to freeze a little to accept that this thing just isn’t going to happen
Not again
I stand in the middle of a bridge I should have burned a long time ago with a match in one hand and an old dollar bill in the other knowing I can just burn the whole thing to ash
But I can’t
I just can’t accept the reality that I’m on this bridge alone
Discarded like an old dollar bill
