final meeting with the saint of burnt bridges.

and this is how you take care of me? intriguing, and fuck you. i'll wipe away the soot from my cheek, and i'll run my tongue over my own teeth, thank you.

you think if i crawl down this way, it'll be easier? why am i even asking you to help me out. i guess it's "old habits die hard" and all that shit, huh?

things have changed, and we've both gotten older. i just can't imagine trying to traverse this canyon without you here. i suppose that we learn new things everyday? and what was it you said in your prayers? something along the lines of "let her see the error of her ways?"

yeah, well, i got a brand new bone to pick with you, but luckily for both of us, i dropped it back at fourth street. we don't always get to live out the stories we tell ourselves.

cause when i get big, i wanna be a fighter, in the ring, against the ropes.

and when i grow up, i wanna be so much more than you.

and when these pants are too short for my lengthening legs, i wanna be something that makes you pray, "let me see the error of my ways."

until then, i'll sit here, chew on this jimson weed and wonder how you got my shoes off my feet without me noticing.

i guess you'll be going now? maybe, i'll sit here a while, puzzling out the next big move. maybe i'll find a shorter way down if i walk upriver a bit. maybe my hair will grow past my shoulders. and maybe, you won't recognize me that next time you fall in love.

go on then, i've gathered the ashes.

go on then, there's nothing left in me for you.

i promise i won't be the same.