We are always told to not play with fire when we were younger.
Always being told.
How bold?

As you get older, the fires begin to pop up everywhere,
Sometimes almost hard to bear.
Fires can come in ways we couldn’t compare.

With age does come with some despair.
In the end, people are really good
At handing me the lighter
To set the bridges I set on fire.

It’s always after I cross—
Don’t look back, it’s no loss.