Firecrackers. That’s all I’ve been meeting lately. Like cheap American brand ones that fizzle and die and leave the place smelling like magnesium.

But, oh god, I’ve met a firework. A burst of colours behind my eyes that kills my breath and I can’t help but be a little scared if I’m too close.

Oh god, I’ve met a firework. Too loud sometimes and unwelcome on my bad days but meeting like that night was like the Fourth of July. It was fireworks at first kiss; they should rephrase that cliche.

And yet fireworks burn out like flames that burn bridges and I should probably let that happen.

Bridges have a funny way of burning and I should just burn this one away.

May the lights from the bridges I burn light the way to a better me.
May the light from the fire take me to a new place.
May the bridges I burn light my way home.

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