Not For Them

Sometimes I get a whiff of the still smoldering bridge that I set aflame long ago,

it’s much easier to light the match when your blood doesn’t call out from the injustice. Not your heart, your blood.

While watching it burn, I winced in pain of being the only witness. As if being the only survivor when Death is prowling around, and doesn’t choose me but the ones that tug at my heart.

By far the worse is having to allow the illusion to wither and die,

by far the best is having something real, something lovely, grow in its place and flourish


About ingridfalconi

I'm a married mother of three and a published author.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s