The Bridge

I sometimes feel like I am no more than a bridge between two worlds For others to stomp across

Seen as wholely inanimate

A bridge can not feel

The old wooden slats bend underneath the pressure of their steps

But it is my ribcage that cracks and breaks under the weight

I am thanked as my splintering bones puncture my lungs

I am a good listener

A bridge can not speak

I pay their toll every time

Remaining as strong as possible

Keeping them from the river

The water cuts and sprays and rushes below me as the tears cause it to swell

A bridge can only last so long before it crumbles and falls

And is replaced

Any Gods have mercy on those who come after