Bridge to Terabithia

On the bridge to Terabithia
I thought I might jump-
fall forever into the abysmal mire
of my own sweat and blood
trade yours for mine,
‘till the end of time.
I thought I might spin-
cradle the myth and memory
of our love like the pain of a hard kiss,
sea salt on an old wound.
Promised I’d never sink again,
only swim
even through the conflagration of spirit
even after dark
even without the hint of a spark
even though I thought this would be different.

Either that or cross and never look back,
believing in faster only because I would be
scaring up ghosts that only I knew how to fight off
dreaming treetops into worlds away from worlds
running harder, harder
until all I knew became soft again.