Branches Book

BRANCHES

who never stayed to see them grow. I find it hard to balance myself with the weight of the world on my shoulders, but I’m trying not to think about weight anymore. I know I've spilled my heart to people that haven't deserved it, if it came off as a greedy need to be wanted, I'd forgotten what it felt like to have my mind and body in the same place. I think I tried too hard to find myself in others.

I'm sorry

I’m sorry that the way I grow

Is different than what you know, believe me,

I tried to make myself fit into the shapes you carved But my legs got sore from sinking to your level my shoulders ache from shrugging it off

I’m standing on my tiptoes to be the bigger person

I’m not sorry

that I’ve given my heart to people before knowing their eyes I’ve learned not to be made of cellophane I’m no longer packaging myself with Styrofoam I’m not sorry for putting myself at the center of my own world.

PCH

It’s nights in October when you’ve forgotten to replace the washer fluid for the dashboard and it’s getting harder to see what’s in front of you. The Santa Anas have been your mom’s biggest worry for as long as you’ve had the consciousness to recognize fear, and when your car shakes on the highway, you grip the steering wheel tighter and try to focus on the road ahead instead of the silence inside. The cars seem to challenge you to press your foot down harder on the pedal and you can’t help but wonder how the same feet you learned to dance with have gotten you here.

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