Disconnected, a puzzle piece astray in society's grand design. Seeking refuge by glistening rivers, I find solace there, in the gentle ebb and flow, a mirror of my restless thoughts.
Contemplations often wander towards the delicate threads of human relationships, easily severed, like slicing through water - smooth yet leaving ripples of unseen wounds.
"Ice", I whisper to myself, longing to be cold, numb to the world's deceit.
A surgeon of ties, wielding the scalpel of detachment. I cut with precision. Leaving no room for remorse. Burning those bridges with fiery rage.
"Fire", my shield and curse, leaving trails of smoke and echoes of my conflicted soul.
Yet, beyond the flames and icy veneer, a yearning persists. Stone bridges, resilient and unshaken, stir a peculiar envy within. Oh, how I ache to be like them - steadfast, enduring, unscathed by the fire's touch. In truth, I resemble the bridges I effortlessly destroy - fragile, delicate. Built on brittle hopes and fleeting emotions. Life whispers its lesson, urging me to construct a foundation, humble and imperfect. Perhaps of sticks and stones.
True strength, isn't in severing, but in binding. Transforming into a bridge-builder, the mender of cracks. Standing steadfast against time's trials. For in the end, in the strength of connections, we find our lasting truth.