Letting Go Of You - A poem about trying to move on

I've been out smoking

singing the swansong
of our love.

My tears have drenched the wooden floor
and I've got nowhere left to go.

Down the river
twinkling lights
drown out the stars.

Sat on this bridge of love
I threw away the key
and the lock at the same time.

I'm counting the breaths
you took last night
before melting away.

As the smoke keeps rising up
I know this river can't go back.

Out of choices.
Out of luck.
Walking on.
Moving on.
Holding on.


This poem was written in Paris on the Pont des Arts bridge, which is the bridge where loves used to put locks with their initials, before they were all removed for weighing down the bridge.