she wanted to be a blade
of grass amid the fields
but he wouldn’t agree
to be the dandelion

she wanted to be a robin singing
through the leaves
but he refused to be
her tree

she spun herself into a web
and looking for a place to rest
turned to him
but he stood straight
declining to be her corner

she tried to be a book
but he wouldn’t read

she turned herself into a bulb
but he wouldn’t let her grow

she decided to become
a woman
and though he still refused
to be a man
she decided it was alright.

Nikki Giovanni

People talk about burning bridges like it’s always a bad thing. What if a bridge just connects you to a place where you do not, never have, and won’t ever belong?

What if a bridge only links you to a place of loneliness, uncertainty, and imbalance - a place where human relationships are defined by what you can get out of someone, or vice versa? What if a bridge only links you to a place where the simple plea for a friend’s love is answered by impersonal voices that would rather talk exclusively about their own problems? What if a bridge only connects you to a place where “respect” is a misunderstood idea more so than a daily practice, where diplomacy always trumps intimacy? What is there to be said of such bridges?

If I gotta twist your arm to make you love me, baby that ain’t love.

May the bridges I burn light the way to places with names like Truth, Honor, and Reciprocity.