bridged considerations

Instead of being scattered to the river,
my treacherous, troubled brains
shaken to bits inside my skull,
I burn down.
I burn down.
I do not drown.
From those remains, I sculpt another self,
quietly tally up my losses
and write their names in smoke.
I take note of ongoing decay –
when I say what I would never say
when I can’t decipher day to day
when I realize I’ve been going the wrong way
for the last ten, fifty, hundred miles!
And, hoping they believed the smiles
I did display
(I can’t recall the play-by-play),
I start forward again, one ashy step
after another.
That’s not to say I didn’t fall
or that bits of my brain aren’t shaken.
That’s not to say, even still,
that I’ve written off the river –
a firm believer all paths are to consider.
This time, again,
I do not drown.
I do not drown.
I burn down.