tumblinas.

Crossing bridges

Yesterday. He turned up at the door.

He looked the same but different, not my Gareth,

he reminded me of another time, when I loved him.

I’m different too.

Old beguiled me would have been happy to see him standing there

Old stupid me would have reached out and pulled him close

planting kisses and smiles on his body.

But I’m different now.

Yesterday I  opened the door and

resented him being in my space

demanding, and arrogant expecting me to be plyable

a thing to manipulate.

He left enraged - I wouldnt do as I was told.

I closed the door and set another bridge on fire.