Burning Bridges

A pocket of matches, 

a billow of smoke, 

you knew this was how it would end. 

I'm guilty of arson, 

you're guilty of trust, 

some flaws are just too hard to mend. 

A pocket of matches, 

and bridges ablaze, 

you're left on the opposite bank. 

I'm guilty of leaving, 

you're guilty of needing, 

so let guilty hearts be frank. 

A pocket of matches, 

a pile of ashes, 

a weight lifted off of my chest. 

I'm guilty of fighting, 

you're guilty of trying, 

well-meaning bridges burn best.