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Sydney Bittner Jan 2020
Your sister is smoking a cigar in the back seat, and you're coughing dramatically, eyes squinted in disgust
Selena Gomez' new song is introduced on the radio and you're turning to ask
"What do you think?"
Right as the sun is sliding warm kisses behind the brown of your eyes
And I'm thinking about my hands and the shape of your thighs
Sure, her voice is recognizeable, memorable
But "the lyrics are predictable"
Two months later and I'm drunk out of my mind
Lying on my livingroom floor and sobbing up at the ceiling
With that same voice shooting love like ****** into my heart
and all I can see when I close my eyes is the fall colored leaves
Your maroon hat, and your laugh, and the way you dance away after playfully slapping me in the ***
And I'm thinking wow, i think I've really seen it. I know what its like to pour all of myself into a bottomless cup
Sydney Bittner Dec 2019
The chain of my necklace has been twisted all day
and I'm trying to convince myself that your voice on the phone isn't the shot of ***** I need to feel sane
I can imagine what you might say,
"I'm sorry baby but I just don't feel that way"

I put my feet on the ground and its your music in my ears again
I turn my heart around and still can only imagine your hands on my skin
You're lost but I thought I'd found a new way to manifest a grin

I reach in, I swallow all those sharp pains like unchewed chips
I tear it out, I smell your perfume and I taste your gum on my lips
What a shout, a scream into the void you and I could have been
Nov 2019 · 72
Once you fuck the fire
Sydney Bittner Nov 2019
Let my memory reverberate
in the hot pain of an oil burn.
The relief of a summer shower, too.
I could taste the cruelty of tomorrow-
I was ready to soften the blow for you.

I put on my dancing shoes.
Took a revealing dress off the rack-
Became untethered, brand new.
Transferred a perception of reality,
Unzipped that protective jacket-

For what?

Beneath my feet, the grass again-
Under my skin, that rage begins.
I built it up, I towered above.
I glowed and shimmered inside your love-
What a waste.

Just because something burns bright,
Doesn't mean its gonna burn forever
Sydney Bittner Sep 2019
You were always tearing up the tree roots
And lighting up the sky at night.
Seemingly ravid in your destruction-
You were striking down on
Fools and geniuses alike.
Something to write home about,
Houses on fire and telephone poles
Crashing through windows.
What an awe inspiring sight.

I imagine a world where you make no sound-
I cannot reconcile with it,I was there
beside you. Shattering houses and
Littering branches across the ground.
I let the world know your glory
With every breath i could find,
Waking slumbering babies with a fright.

If you were lightning-
A bright flash of purpose-
Then i swear i would have been
Thundering forever. I wanted
To vibrate your beauty
Out into the universe. I wanted
To let it be known that you were strong.
I wanted to be the sound you made.
I wanted to be the seconds in between.
The miles that stretched
Between fear and praise.

But then the clouds cleared
And either you became tired
Or lost your spite. And I no longer
Found the purple light
That painted the skies. No more
Was there a song for me to sing
I could not find the words-
The epic poem that you
Seemed to deserve.

So i handed my voice to the rain.
I let it wash us away, you and I
We made way, we let the storm
Move out. You did not want
For me to bring on the day.
But I fell for the sun-
And now I am but a rooster
On a farm somewhere
In Arizona. I used to be thunder,
Tell electricity
it was nice to know her.
Sep 2019 · 81
Sydney Bittner Sep 2019
Every grassy field
In the middle of the day and at the end of the night
With your baggage galloping circles around us
All those car rides
With melodies that sound like that forbidden word
And silence that swallows shaking wrists
Your skin, your lips
They feel the same as country skies
My eyes
An ocean that you swim, still mastering that cross stroke

I ache to unlock that door of your mind
I know that every receptor is golden
And every lobe glows violet
Our brains
Always intercepting, collapsing under memory's warning
It seems we'll never give in

Just as you look away
Just as I'm learning to lock myself out
That solar heart exposes us
Descendents of icarus will always need more
your veins
They run with the same fire as mine

I have a plan
I want for everything real, I want to take a bite
Out of the whole world
I want to absorb everything bright
And reflect it at a higher wattage
I dont waste my time on silence
I dont beat around the bush of modesty

I know when I need to grow
I know the right time to dive
And the right time
To give up the gun

I've finished hiding behind dignity
I see no point to playing coy anymore
My vision blurs when you enter a room
I won't pretend I dont know what that means
Not when i rely so heavily on my sight

So go ahead, let it tear us apart
I've found the cure for a broken heart
In poetry and sad songs
And a sunset soaked lake
So here goes

Even if I told myself I'd never say it first
With the feeling of that moment
Spent between the cliff and the water
Even if it means no more good mornings
With the feeling of your hand on my thigh
I am afraid
But i think that makes me brave
I love you, Je t'aime, te quiero
Aug 2019 · 69
Crescendo III
Sydney Bittner Aug 2019
My neurons are sliced right through the middle.
Connections scatter in desperation;

Half of who I am,
Half of what I say,
Even the food I ate-

A gift to my intellect, you remain.
The brain that now seems so far away-
You leave me half-witted.

You take the me out of what I used to be
My conciousness is riddled
With flash photographs of yours.

I'm sorting through the carnage
What half is mine?
What half am I?
Aug 2019 · 72
Daedalus' apprentice
Sydney Bittner Aug 2019
I am drawing patterns along your palms
With the tips of my fingers,
And your voice is piercingly cold
As it shimmers across my skin.
You say I am not enough-

And then you soak in me,
A cat in a patch of sunlight.
One moment purring in baritone
The next, hissing in falsetto.

You say you may want another-
But you shiver in the silence
Of my absence, i know
What it is that you want.

You want the world spinning-
You want the possibility of pain-
You want to stand on that window ledge
Again and again.

But I am not chaos and strife.
I am their daughter,
And I have built a home
In the eye of a tornado.

I do not tear houses from the ground,
I do not uproot forestry-
I am the rope that holds down the fort.
I am a good man in a storm.
Aug 2019 · 90
A galaxy's frontal lobe
Sydney Bittner Aug 2019
At your most vulnerable-
With your shield down, your lights off.
Your eyes warm, comfortable-
The universe speaks to me.

You are a collection of
life's loving, sharpest lessons.
You are all those sensations
Represented by moments;

Soft voice in a midnight tent
On an august's dewy night.
Skinned knee on the hot gravel
And a mother's tender kiss.

We're everything and nothing-
Time tears all matter apart.
But I think your stardust
was born on the meteor next to mine.
Jul 2019 · 177
Crescendo II
Sydney Bittner Jul 2019
Glamorous indie rock and roll
Switches station to become R&B favourites
And in part I'm forgetting the wombats
And fall out boy
And the 1975
So I can close my eyes
Against the city skyline
Because I see your frame
In every flashing light

I believe in unfamiliar words.
I let the beat convince me-
It is not jarring to be alone.

But I'm missing the beauty of lyrics
Did I abandon the meaning
For the sound?
Jul 2019 · 47
Crescendo I
Sydney Bittner Jul 2019
There is that sourness in the form of a word
Displacement of all efforts
When you look into the blanket folds
And readjust to privacy

Who am I when I'm not tucked
into your shoulder blades?
What is mischief if you're not laughing?
And tenderness too-

For that I always looked to you
And i still do
Sydney Bittner Jul 2019
The most gorgeous purple glow
To ever dare cut a line through my lungs.
My skin warm and red, itching,
Sun burned
Under the wash of
Your guilt-sick gaze.

To know that I soaked
In all that UV ray damage
Only to find
That when you slide beneath the horizon
You had wished all day
That it would rain.

That is the worst nightmare.
5AM leaves me wired.
I wait for you in my dreams.
Jun 2019 · 80
Only fools fall
Sydney Bittner Jun 2019
We wait for the excuse of liquid courage.
Pretend your lips on my pulse
don't feel better
than the blood pumping through.

In the dark I can almost taste-
the way our energy jumps
from palm to palm.
The way the sun's Ray's line
my questioning mind.

In the black of 3am,
your hand finds my thigh
and the ceiling above us
is washed in oranges and pinks.

I'm always, always thinking-
at least vaguely-

Do you see it? Do you see it?

How the words silhouette in mauve
across my laughter.
Collapse in periwinkle
Under your lashes.

Do you see it? Do you see it?

All that color-
Flowering in the shadows.

5am. The birds chirp
in cerulean blues.
But your car is grey,
And you're putting on your shoes.
May 2019 · 121
Libra moon
Sydney Bittner May 2019
In your car at midnight
I swear to the god I don't believe in
I saw the world turn in your eyes.

What do you want?

The tilt of your chin
At the mention of Karl Marx.
Even in fluorescent lighting
Tu es un boule de feu.

What do you want?

The sound of your laugh across the line
Even on the longest shift of my life-
Tu me rends heureux.

What do you want?

You were so right.
Between Freud's dreams
And Sylvia Plath's misery-
The good must always come
Weighed down.

While you were washed over
With mercy's tropical sun
Cutting all those strings
I was realizing
What I want.
Sydney Bittner Apr 2019
I found you in the shadows of that smoke stained room.
Your hair was blue then, what a shock
against the grey of lakeshore avenue.
You were the vision of a sparrow's wing
Unhindered by the choking fumes.

You find me today, sun beams flaring out from a cruel arched brow.
What a picture i must have made then
In comparison to now.

Somewhere along the way our softness seemed to delegate itself,
job rotation of the pessimistic.
I still imagine the way naivity tasted on your lips-

Chocolate dipped dreams. I could hear your voice for hours on end,
And still call you again at 3am.
Now every tone is under the line
of a jaded cat's whiskers.

I am impassioned, every word
Enflates my spirit until
It is too big. You are taking
Out that thin steel pin
And looking for the best spot

You want to let that heavy sadness in.
I know it well, I remember the
Way it felt to love her. So warm,
but now the new day calls-

And you are clicking closed the shutters
While i am throwing on my runners.

If you won't come with me I'll go alone

You turn out the light
You say "go"
Apr 2019 · 67
Redbull at 5am
Sydney Bittner Apr 2019
This city reveals itself as sunset-less.
I never thought I'd miss
the way death is soft
in the fist. The night
is loud, the windows shutter
in their frames.

I can't stop picturing her face.
Sydney Bittner Apr 2019
An image of that glowing future
hangs, ominous, from the ceiling
I see you there, gold plated principles
drawn on the arm's breadth,
Fiery tattooed stubbornness.

God, how I love you.

In your voice is the blue of dusk-
sun's rays still warm on pavement.
But it tastes like Buckley's in the mouth.
Dreams of your vibrant spirit fade to grey.
I caress a vision of another's face.
Dec 2018 · 88
Where the tracks end
Sydney Bittner Dec 2018
Mallard's squabble in the sifting waves
The picture splits in two
Every new moment, every adventure
All my definitions have
Something to do with you
Aug 2018 · 105
The human experience: $9.99
Sydney Bittner Aug 2018
Harsh is the human spirit, sharp winds along the winter's eve
Definition at its edges, wholey green with greed
Turn the vulnerable to capital, profit off their needs
What weakness lays in love, harrowed skin's adoring insolin
An addiction
A disease
Aug 2018 · 130
Concrete jungle blues
Sydney Bittner Aug 2018
I know what it means to give in.
I've already tasted the warm beer,
the sticky counters of a mid day bar on the breath of a tall man.
I've heard of sorrow's dependence and
I see what it turns us into.
Stigmatized and scented of sidewalk's old gum,
Invisible to the naked eye, the seeing eye, the breathing eye.
How the folds of skin come faster-
The voice- crackled like old tinfoil used again and again.
I can picture it all, I can see it in the mirror.
I admit to the fear of it. I admit to the dread I so detest in the faces of privileged youth;
Washed up, Burned out.
In high school a concept I easily accepted as being applied to myself.
But as my cycle of living and dying draws to its middle ground-
I feel it, the horror. The relief in the knowledge that I'm not like that. I'm not like that...
I carry my voice like church bells and feel myself grin at this mantra,
Even as i taste hesitation's sour malingering bite.
Sydney Bittner Mar 2018
You are the clean feeling-
The relief of leaving all the dirt of the day behind in the water
As one rises from the tub

You are the clean feeling-
Of fresh, bare calves, sliding
Across a new set of sheets
In the early afternoon

You are the whole heart,
Of a friend who's affection is uncertain
Looking you in the face
"I know how you feel"

You are the surprising start
Of a day I thought
Would not go my way
But I'm just in time

How many psychologists does it take
To ***** in a lightbulb?
Only one, but
The lightbulb has to want to change

And god, do you make me
Want to change
What a pleasant surprise you are
Your mind is dazzling, A piece of art
Sydney Bittner Mar 2018
When the rain has driven away the dry
What’s left of us sticks
To the soles of sockless feet, between the toes
Where nature and the self meet

I can taste it, building plaque between my teeth
With hopeless fingers scrape it
Wait for tooth decay, part with the idea
Of a life fulfilled and the perfect day

You can’t run away from death
The harder you try,
The closer it seems you get, and then
Your knees are hitting the mud again

There’s nothing I can do, the night closes in
The doctor’s orders
Are to kiss once again, and part
You have my beauty, you have my art.
Sydney Bittner Jan 2018
It has proven hard to forgive
The moon and the yew tree
Even at such a distance
I cannot consider a warm glow

And talons are not so
Simply mistaken for
Red scarves
Even with the blood on my shoulders

The lady of the wind she knows
How hard I fight to fly
Wings outstretched
But my bones are not hollow

My face in the mirror
Spreads like microwaved butter
And soils all those sunsets
With the promise of tomorrow
Dec 2017 · 275
snowfall envy
Sydney Bittner Dec 2017
How is it that you hold so still?
A heart of silver coins in a fountain-
as your sky shutters and breaks apart above.

In the moments so tender
You seem to find a home,
never looking in, but out-

you are the softest of sounds
Dec 2017 · 139
contrition for the cold
Sydney Bittner Dec 2017
She tells me it’s best
we disembark.
That we should
“stop hanging out after dark”-
There are too many listless shapes around,
All the regret we share-
Passed between us by the pound.
Nov 2017 · 146
Hot pain
Sydney Bittner Nov 2017
"used to" Is an easy phrase
The tongue grasps the words.
How time passes that's
a lesson learned-
the heart, she scars or yearns.

In the evenings
I douse my memories
in gasoline-
I sing to bright Saturn.
She and I like sisters-
much too cold to burn.
Nov 2017 · 118
Porch steps in the rain
Sydney Bittner Nov 2017
Cardinal in a winter's willow
shiver in the breeze.
I swear I meant nothing by it-
even when I'm on my knees.

Short tempered weather
days pass and people too.
I've never quite met anyone-
who could sing that song like you.
Jul 2017 · 214
regurgitating heartbreak
Sydney Bittner Jul 2017
What an old pain
clogging your throat
rumbling low in the voice.

By now remembered
in clouded tone
blood browned on the pillow case.

difficult to breathe around
harder to speak-

I dare you to cough.

Splatter the pavement
allow prying eyes to pick apart.

I bet now
you can sing real loud.
Sydney Bittner Jul 2017
Hold your breath when someone says their name so that you can associate it with drowning. Maybe next time you find yourself submerged in water the sound of their voice will haunt you. In that case; open your eyes wide, let the chlorine burn the absence into your skull

2. Grow a pair of wings and saw them off with a kitchen knife. Gulp down an entire bottle of wine. Staple goats' horns to your forehead. Fear nothing. Fear yourself. Tell yourself that you are a monster, you are the antagonist in every horror story you've ever seen.

3. Open your laptop in the dead of night and flirt with strangers online. Stay anonymous and non-committal. Be ****** and crass. Tell them exactly how you feel and laugh when they are uncomfortable. Maybe someone will fall in love with you; turn them down. After this you will feel hollow and used; but you will not be thinking about them.

4. Wait for the sky to open up and the rain to come down in melancholy kisses. Go for a walk without your shoes and when the thunder roars- roar back. You are just as mighty. But like the downpour you are just as sad- let the sky's sorrow wash you clean.

5. Take yourself to a romance movie in the middle of the day and sob angrily in the empty theater. Tell those gorgeous Hollywood actors where they can shove it. Carve your name into the back of the seat.

6. Fill your brain with any and all kinds of love that you can find. You love the flowers; the daisies and their bright smiles. You love the dogs in the park;how they gallop and pant. You love your mom; her soft concerned expression. You love the night;his deep and endless mourning-you love the day;her bright and burning potential.
May 2017 · 295
The contents of my purse
Sydney Bittner May 2017
i. A glass jar containing my collection of their voices; the good ones. Lilted inquiries of my mood, my little brother’s groggy “good morning”, the soft timbre of my mother-proud of how much I’ve grown, his voice- clapping against a windowpane of shame to reassure me “it’s okay. You’re only human”
ii. My other collection of voices, the bottle I try and try to smash against the sidewalk; the bad ones. Shrill pointed exposure of my grotesque physique, cold assumptions of my morals, the sharp blade of my mother’s tongue- slicing ribbons of self-esteem, his voice- trailing off at “you’re not ugly”; the silence when I need reassurance in my beauty.
iii. A pocket of silver coins, always filled at the beginning of the day and emptied by the end because I’m tossing them desperately into fountains, lakes, ponds, puddles. Eyes glazed and dreamy, wishing wishing wishing
iv. Left-handed scissors- I’ve never met anyone who had a pair and I need them in case there is ever a time when I feel vulnerable. They’re good for cutting away devotion, tearing through envy, and silencing guilt.
v. A ballpoint pen for when my world begins to melt like crayons in the sun, I can scribble out my final reassurances to those who feel the same as I do before I am claimed for my sins by nature’s mighty wrath
vi. A flask of liquid courage, more a poison that murders my love for others so that I may walk freely on the burning coals of ridicule- I’d never survive long without this
vii. And finally a pair of headphones, so that I’m never left in silence with my thoughts.
May 2017 · 214
bad intentions
Sydney Bittner May 2017
Sydney Bittner May 2017
I could tell you were different from the others when the teacher said your name
you blushed so red I thought maybe if I bit into you you'd taste like raspberries.
and maybe it's that I did want to bite into you, even if you only tasted of ashes.
But I could tell that you wouldn't, you weren't like the people in my neighborhood.
They were all hard edges and hands that dig into cotton sweaters to pull them into the pool, and you were the flower that only blooms in the morning. You were the fireflies that scattered when I turned on a light.
Your finger nails were always bitten right to the stub, and there were song lyrics in permanent marker on your forearms.
"You are the smell before rain, you are the blood in my veins"
maybe you realized you were describing how I felt about you, but probably not.
You didn't see any good in yourself.
I guess it must have been hard to, when people had always been plucking your petals.
I wanted to put you in a glass case in the highest tower of my castle.

I had been shaped by my environment into gnarled branches reaching for the sun. I had a soft spot for people that reminded me of clouds.

We were both tattered at the edges and so lonely.
We had been looking for each other all along.
fall in love with someone just as ****** up as you are, you can fill the empty holes in each other
May 2017 · 1.1k
Roller Blades
Sydney Bittner May 2017
The only gift my father ever got me was a pair of dark blue roller blades

He dropped them off at my stuffy apartment
and away he sped on his motor cycle

I stuck my feet into the holy grail of our relationship
and it was a size too small

my father is no devil

but riding along the burning asphalt, ankles screaming in pain

I cursed him down to hell

when I got home I cast those eyesores out of heaven

to rot in the shadows of my closet

those **** roller blades

I'd always preferred skating
Sydney Bittner May 2017
She has never taken a silver spoon to the contents of her head,
or buried her body in a lover's empty bed.  

She is not the old jacket hanging on the back of the chair-
but the inhabitant, a throne's rightful heir.
I imagine a life where there are no ghosts in the mirror;

when friends talk about their fathers, there's no bile in her throat-
the thought of spilling the contents of her stomach is an unfunny joke.
She doesn't change into her clothes as if a gun ha
d been pulled,

or dream of Icarus’ voice, “Jump” he goads
She looks both ways before crossing the road.

Her fingers don't pry at a laceration's half-hearted mend
or dig into her womb when the wind howls for her end.

Substances don’t brush away her thoughts,
Or birth them again.

This stranger version of me-
probably so easy to understand-
not a martyr in the least.

I imagine without these callous grooves in my flesh;

I couldn't figure out how to fill the empty spaces of others
or hide myself
just right
under the covers.
pondering who I might be, had certain privileges not been taken from me
May 2017 · 281
Sydney Bittner May 2017
When they lay me in the ground
stand at the podium and face the crowd.

Don't you dare sugar coat it.

Tell them I was flawed-
recount my selfish manners
and all my reckless bursts.
I want them to hear you say that I
was human at my worst.

In the end it's okay if sometimes
your face is sketched in hard lines.

Let me be a lesson.
I loved them all so genuinely,
often with
unwarranted aggression.
You don't owe the world anything, but they deserve it.
May 2017 · 229
A woman I once knew
Sydney Bittner May 2017
Loaded shotgun, heavy armour-
spray of bullets on a sunny afteroon.

There is nothing you can't ******
even sadness, her silk soft croon.

Avert emotion, convert devotion.
Full of pride, you confront the moon

No one can stop you from moving forward
-force even yourself to hum a new tune

We are still here where you left us,
our voices haunt you every June.
Tenacious beast, an inspiration or a warning to us all.
May 2017 · 324
ugly sun
Sydney Bittner May 2017
I am the personification of power
my voice callous and cold
with a burst of aggression can tear
through an insecure mold

You are but a delicate child
-weak willed and short miled.
There is nothing vulnerable in me
-strength of a thousand women, you see.

I was raised in the care of addiction
my life is fact and yours is fiction.
teaching myself to be invincible, part one.
Sydney Bittner May 2017
Come on baby grab a spoon
my wrists tire
scooping out conscious thought
replacing it with fire
Sydney Bittner Feb 2017
I was an empty glass
on the lowest shelf
among deserted dreams and empty schemes
encased in finger smudge marks
and a dusting
of negative light

Now every morning I wake knowing
today I will be loved
and tomorrow too

A gentle clean hand
you fill me up with cool water
and now I am a vase
Full of brightly colored adoration for you
a love poem on valentine's day, what a surprise
Sydney Bittner Feb 2017
There is something despicable about every mirror.
Not a cruel sharp corner
the cold glass
but a reflection of self without substance.
You are not the flushed cheeks,
You are the life in them.
Feb 2017 · 191
Sydney Bittner Feb 2017
A door shut was the summary
Of your world
And mine was following you
As your skin unfurled
Remember when the dog swallowed all of your happy days?
You didn't take them, anyway.
There was a song the sleep soft fur sang to the pills
"it could've been you, it could've been you. It would've been a dying thrill"
when his smirk turns to a scowl and his booming voice mentions a man named "lee"
I wish it had been me
Feb 2017 · 191
Sydney Bittner Feb 2017
There’s a sickness I spread
dancing along your veins
Playing my aching song to the tumble of your breath
Some people call it regret.
Sydney Bittner Feb 2017
Good things end in the fluorescent lighting
of an apartment hallway on a Tuesday night
With a whispered “text me” and a slow nod.

You and I are two separate worlds,
impossibly rotating around each other
Star-crossed by an ending beauty.

There is nothing I want more
than the light behind your eyes
blinking awake at me in the early hours
than the shape of your head, silhouette
against a sunset of emotion.

But sometimes dusk comes too soon
With no gift to wash me through
Human words sharp through the rays of passing sun.
Taken in by the cold moon, we are undone.

It is hard to heal a wound that doesn't scab
even harder to forgive an unapologetic action
My soul still intertwined with yours
I close the door.
take out the scissors and cut me lose, all I'm attached to is you.
Sydney Bittner Feb 2017
I once told you I was larger than life itself
but it’s true that sometimes when porcelain shatters
I check to see all my limbs are still there
Jan 2017 · 248
Sydney Bittner Jan 2017
With tightened lips moving at the pace of heartbreak
I can still recall your landline phone number
And how the numbers looked, scrawled
Across the bottom of my notebook.
Like someone had put them there with different intentions
Like they'd wondered there on their own.

I have memorized how many times
10: I dialed those familiar digits
9: I hung up
8: I asked you if you liked to dance, all in a row
You said you didn't. You said flashing lights made you sick
I offered to twirl you in the dark. Even though I'd been afraid of it since I was
7: I said "I love you
6: you said it back. The last time, you looked out my bedroom window and bit your lip.
5: I made you breakfast. Bacon on French toast, sprinkled with icing sugar. You smiled so big I felt my heart expand and I did it again
4 times in the span of 3 months.
3 months. We spent them inside our version of a love song. The melody an aching one. The lyrics soft like the palms of your hands..
2: I told you I was in love with you. I offered up my life. I shared everything that belonged to me so that I could belong to you.
1: you said "I can't do this"
1: you said "I don't feel it"
1: you said "no"
Final goodbyes are said only once, I wish it was less
Sydney Bittner Jan 2017
Shoot a firework up my spine and you will find
You’ve only added a match to a fire,
I am a burning star,
a collapsing empire.
Until now I've only ever crawled or jumped
Jan 2017 · 438
Reality is overrated
Sydney Bittner Jan 2017
Can’t even see my own reflection,
been standing on this windowsill so long
My spine spits curses at the moon.
I’d break the glass with a clenched fist if it would
bend my perception that much more.
Jan 2017 · 506
This life is yours
Sydney Bittner Jan 2017
Do not allow your voice
to be heard only in
the lullabies of sad songs.
You create the world you see.
Take it in your hands
and squeeze.
Sydney Bittner Jan 2017
Sometimes when the crooked smiles are gone,
when the tangle of your hair is gripped in my fingers,
I pretend moments last forever.
I pretend the last time I dug a hole in my chest
promised someone all of my tomorrows
they didn’t take my yesterdays,
leave me with liver failure.
How to recover from heartbreak: substance abuse
Jan 2017 · 725
Mama's girl
Sydney Bittner Jan 2017
With a heart that disintegrates
Glance down at your fingers
Up, toward ambition and denial
I know that often
When I see you in this state,
It symbolizes to me, that the stars have not aligned
Saturn’s rings are resting cool
Curled around your throat, where your blood sings,
I know that today
I will learn what it means to come from a “broken home”
Will no longer be on the other side of the whispers,
Of the naivety pittering down the lockered halls
I know that you do not do these things to hurt me
And that the world has just dealt you a losing hand
Like the most loyal of dogs I come back to you every time
Grant your trembling fists permission to take advantage
Of a child’s adoration
I will be seen and not heard
Allowing you the capacity to forgive yourself.
changing my perception of love, just for you.
Sydney Bittner Jan 2017
I take the power back
by refusing to say I love you first
And sometimes I do not say it at all

Because I am so missing
A justice which I crave
I steal it away from you
To make up for the fact
that he has mine
and he is gone
My father, the man who knows not my name
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