Your love was bright, nebolous and tore through me,
I think about you, and what we could be,
But you chose to burn me to the ground,
I try and escape, your memories, your sound,
Something new might grow,
Something different, that which I did not know,
For now, I am stuck picking up what is left
I choose to burn my bridges,
Feel my imperfections, my cracks and ridges,
You, a paper fire, turned me to ash,
But I will rise, from the ground,
Unabashed.
Paper fires are usually bright, quick and have a chance of hurting you. Thought I’d use that as a metaphor for a toxic person.