Flame.

You and I spent so many days building. God gave us a hammer and some nails, and trees galore for us to get some wood. We built bridges small and large, we couldn't walk on the simple dirty, cement ground any longer. Oh no, oh no. For you, my love and for me, your love the sidewalk was not good enough. However, after spending so many days building bridges ones' hands get sore and they cannot hold on to those tools any longer. One day, those sore hands couldn't even hold eachother. So we let go. We're still together though. I know it. You might. Together, we are burning all the bridges we built and trying to establish new ones. Watery eyes and calloused fingers, we burn the bridges and we walk away together and apart. I know it. You might. That we are building the same
Flame.