Stained Bridge – The Poetry Marathon

I shouldn’t have crossed that bridge to your house

I knew you wouldn’t leave her for me

Even though it’s my nectar stained on your sheets

I shouldn’t have crossed that line but all I heard was fire

Pop! Pop!

My life on the line no more and yours no longer in the balance

I knew I shouldn’t have crossed that bridge and jumped over the broom

As I lay her bleeding

My child not breathing

Our blood stained on your fists

I crossed that bridge with my children

My fingers stained with berry juice that we picked

My hands I can wash easily of these actions

But the actions above these lines

Not so much

Because not all stains on a bridge can be washed away