Poetry of Stephanie Bennett Henry

Burning Bridges

Who told you that when you fell, you stayed down too long? That your silent cries were screams for help translating to nothing more than drama seeking attention. That perhaps your pain was self inflicted, maybe you are drawing it out way too long, and god… why can’t you just smile, mouth closed, like an invitation to shut your mouth. Sit, just sit and smile, like a good girl, silent and unheard, like a lady who’s completely cold and unaffected. Who taught you that was strong? Who showed you vulnerability is an ugly kicking and screaming tantrum that everyone looks away from? Who told you every time you feel, you are doing it wrong? Could it be the one who gave a little push and couldn’t stop kicking every time you went down? No one gets to tell you how to feel, who to be or how to heal. Nobody does that unless they feel guilty for pushing you into the breaking and walked away without offering a hand to pull you out. Trust me, even when you do get up, someone is going to be there just waiting to kick again. Be prepared for people who cannot stand to see you rise, but are first in line to applaud when you fall and spit on the light still shining. Learn that holding your tongue isn’t always the strong way and sometimes your power is in saying, “No… I’m not here to be your bridge to cross so you can light a match and watch me burn; I burn my own bridges and I do it by my clock, not yours.” #stephaniebennetthenry #ragingrhetoric

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