the bridge has burned:

tell me it's gonna be alright
(i know it's not but i need some reassurance)
tell me how,
the light that left
her eyes found someone else's,
and her body will crumble
to dust
but find it's way back above.

tell me her death was unforeseeable
(even though it wasn't -- it wasn't suppose to happen)
when the only thing that survived
was me
me and all my glory
my fucking glory.

tell me it isn't my fault
(when it was, it really was)
that loose lips
and tipsy drips
weren't made for the wheel.
that i shouldn't have allowed
her to imbibe
all her sorrows away
well instead it was her
who was imbibed
by 2 tonnes of now-scrap metal.

---

inspiration:

no inspiration.