the bridges almost never burn completely,
they haunt our memories and poison
our resolve to bone slowly.
Unless we forgive these demons,
they would hunt us down and devour us whole,
wielding the knife of time through our gut
and spill them unceremoniously.
In one perfunctory motion we'd
end up with the dead,
floating where the waves take us ,
bleached clean of our skin,
to where only truth remains.
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