The bridge of our trust used to stand strong,

Built with the toughest emotions and stone,

It suppressed all sorts of disasters,

Except for the disaster you caused.

I can recall when the bridge was hilariously puny,

Made of the most frail twigs we’ve ever seen,

We weren’t sure if it would hold,

But we took our chances anyways.

We used to cross the bridge every hour,

To vent about our distasteful days,

To heal each other’s hearts with care and reassurance,

Every second being dramatic yet beautiful.

Over time, the bridge upgraded,

Our relationship just as brawny,

It felt as if the bridge was indestructible,

And if you weren’t so vile, it probably would have been.

Shattered was the bridge one fateful night,

The moon, the stars, and I watching with horror,

My heart stinging, bleeding with betrayal,

Standing frozen as my heart pounded erratically.

You smashed the poor bridge with sadistic glee,

Your hands were clutching the sledgehammer so tightly,

So maniacally,

It was like you were possessed!

You strutted off with malicious pride afterwards,

While I remained to mourn,

Lost in my thoughts, staring off,

How you could ever do such a thing?

Every drop of crimson blood,

Every drop of briny sweat and tears,

Was now drained into the damned stream below,

The remains of our trust flowing away.

It’s such a shame;

Our bridge was a waste of agony,

It was a waste of vulnerability,

And I’m left alone with nothing.