were best friends
and
relationship
arsonists.
There should have been
a warning:
Bridges Burned
After Crossing.
But we crossed
after them anyway,
following their steps
and dropping lit matches
behind us,
never learning to stay
where the good is.
They're professionals
at leaving
messes
wherever they go.
We never thought
the fire would touch us,
but here we stand,
holding burned hands
and watching
them run off
without us.
We're lucky -
not everyone
who touches
their fire
survives.
We wear our scars
like war badges.
It's all we have.
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