Broken Brakes

I keep having this reoccurring dream.

I drive my car and the brakes don't work.

What an accurate 

representation of

how my heart works.

Haven't Slept Since You Left

he and she.

you and me.

father.

daughter.

i don't know

what other words to write with

or how to end a poem

about someone leaving and

trying to swallow

this hollow feeling. 

how do you walk the way that you do?

how do you ask God for the forgiveness that you do?

if i were him i would not forgive you

it's been so long

ive forgotten what you look like.

i don't need you.

(but i do)

i dont miss you

(if only you knew)

turns out, broken people attract broken people.

that's why the people i keep finding look 

so much like you.

Mama

I looked at her, clutching my chest.
"Mama, it hurts. How do you make it stop?"

She didn't respond for a while
and looked at me with eyes and a soul
that had been where I was, remembering
the first boy that broke her heart.

"Baby, you don't. Gotta feel it to heal it.
You will fall to the ground with this gravity he left you with
but that doesn't mean you won't get up again."

Ceilings

To the people who find themselves
           "loving too hard",
                 Keep on.
                    Don't stop.
                        Love strong.
                            Be smart with your heart.
                        Love intentionally.
                    We need people with ceilingless love.
                So, the people outside?
           They're wrong, dear.
Loving the way you do is nothing to be ashamed of.

Ghostless

I wake up.

Drink my coffee,
and feel lighter.

The ghost of you doesn't wake with me anymore.

Our Keys

I play our memories
like ivory keys
on the piano
I never learned how to play.

It comes out like a toddler hitting notes in no systematic way
but it is all too comforting to me.

Let's Talk

Dear everyone who has fallen into the rabbit hole of this blog,
  Hello. How are you? Good? Good. I've gotten some questions about the content and the basis of this blog. I want to be completely honest with you. This blog came to be for purely selfish reasons. Originally, I never intended to show this to anyone. This was to be a healing place, somewhere to process my feelings, good or bad. Somewhere to poetically vomit my thoughts. Since The Olive Branch was started I have learned that hiding my thoughts benefits no one. Don't get me wrong there are times to embrace the silent places but there are also very important times to come forth with our thoughts.
  With that being said, I would like to point out that writing is an art. Art is an expression of that person and the lenses they see the world through. I like to believe that everyone is an artist at heart. We all create in various ways, I believe expression should be the one thing that we can all honor. Honor the art, honor the artist. Let's create a culture of creative freedom.
  My blog is through my lenses. I'm in a season of healing and processing and learning, if that makes you uncomfortable then (insert the shrugging shoulders emoji). I believe in honesty and writing is where I can be most honest. If heartbreak, grief, redemption, and inspiration aren't your thing then this isn't for you. That's totally fine! Read things that empower and encourage you. With creative freedom in mind, let's agree to enable expression rather than judge each others differences.
  So dear reader, if you're still with me, come with me on this ride of healing and honesty and forgiveness.

                                                                         XOXO
                                                                              -Syd

Extinguish

Looking into your eyes was

like ignoring a house, on fire.

There was smoke.

There were signs.

I just didn't take the time to reach for the extinguisher.

Only to find you took the time to reach for her.

Cling to her.

Lean to her.

For oxygen.

How can I be mad at you for trying to survive your own arson?