Simply Expressing

I’ve been on the other side; let me crawl my way out again. thank you.

[conveyingclouds]

You visited me in a dream.

You’re not gone

From this world,

But you’re gone from mine.

Gone from my pain,

Gone from my suffering,

Gone from me because

I cannot support

Your slow, drawn out

Death.

You’re not incapable of

Of happiness,

You’re incapable of

Allowing yourself

To experience

Happiness.

I’ve held your

Living funeral,

I’ve grieved your

Death.

I wish it wasn’t so,

But I can only

Live for myself.

I can only live for myself.

[bled]

[conveyingclouds]

This blog has been around since I was around 14 years old and it holds a lot of memories, good and bad, for me. I started another blog called t-c-writes and I think I’m going to just switch over to using that one now. Do me a favor, if you like what’s on here, go give that new blog a follow.

Someone on tumblr made a pretty picture with a quote that I used as my senior quote when I graduated highschool and it says, “You must allow yourself to outgrow and depart from certain eras of your life with a gentle sort of ruthlessness.”

That’s what I’m doing now.

I need to start over, simply for myself. Come join me if you wish.

[conveyingclouds]

Just saying Hi. I didn't think you still had this blog. I followed you on my two other Tumblrs. A rare "treat" to come across a name I recognize on here. : ) xoxo -Mark

I’ve had this blog since I was fourteen, so a decade now, and I’m combing through all of my own poems and have decided to turn it into a book! Thank you for messaging me, the kind words are greatly appreciated!

[conveyingclouds]

A Letter to Brooke’s Dad

You hovered over us as kids

Wanted,

NEEDED

To make sure that we would be safe

In a world where

The ‘evil’ is out to get us.

It was never there to begin with.

If only all of the dads

Like ours would have known

That we have the best role models

That we could have ever

Dreamed about

as children.

.You.

[conveyingclouds]

Me.

I’m an electrical engineer

Rewriting the circuits in my mind

To bypass the burnt fuses

From when my muses

Scorched out the bits of

My childhood self.

I’m an architect

Raising these limbs every

Day break, to make these

Bones ache

A little less each morning.

I’m an artist

Chiseling away at the 

Marble block to carve myself

Into new, unique shapes

That no-one could have 

Ever thought 

To have been conceived

Under your supervision.

I am all the people from all

Of the places I have seen and

Felt

On my skin and inside of

My framework

rusty… unkempt….

Framework;

Hoping to not built up more

Walls but rather,

Paint murals

Of the past with pink clouds

And blue skies

Sometime,

Before the big bag occurred,

But after our eyes always blurred

With the tears I’ve wept

For countless nights.

[conveyingclouds]

You.

All I ever wanted was a “pink cloud summer” with you

when you lived in the Marina,

by movements

as I sat in all of the the bathroom floors

of the places we lived.

Back then, both you

and I

had to “Suffer Through”

and now I hope you can have a second to listen to

Movements;

A song called Love Took the last of it…

this is my way of breaking our test of no contact,

and you can block me in your phone

if you want,

but I know that both you and I

are worthy of redemption arch.

I’m achieving mine

and I hope

you keep trying to get yours.

You deserve it.

This is Taylor,

but I go by

Tay now,

and I have

my own special pronouns.

You don’t have to suffer in silence

if you don’t want to,

and you don’t have to block me on everything if you don’t have to…..

I still think highly of you,

and I hope you’re okay…

you have my number again and I have yours if you want resources

because I have mine together

for when shit tries breaking apart again.

No more “colorblind”….

because were supposed to

and yes.

[conveyingclouds]

I lost myself in

Being worried that I was

Going to lose you.

[mischi3vous-thing]

Stitch up this heart

And hide it away

I keep it somewhere dark and safe

Watch it fade to grey

I still feel this way

When light catches your face

You open these stitches again

When I see your face

[conveyingclouds]

No more writing about people. They’re overrated

[conveyingclouds]

[conveyingclouds]

Declassified Angels

Maybe in a different life,

I’d be the healthy amount

Of insane.

There would only be

One version of myself.

Decisive,

Cohesive.

You can’t erase time.

Looking back knowing,

I could have been okay

Without my past.

I could have been gone though,

And not that long ago

Either.

We were declassified angels;

Lost from where

We could have been...

should have been.

At least I have you,

Someone to fall together with

As our heads fall apart.

[conveyingclouds]

C.C.

[conveyingclouds]

Tell me how it is;

How it is that

I am the one with the

Blunt object

Slowing hacking away

At the stardust

In your core.

Show me the

Peach and plum splotches

I left on your vocal folds

As you bruised them

When your voice reigned down

With such a force that I was

Transported back to

The days that remain

Hardly spoken of.

Make me feel the abandonment

You must be experiencing,

Or just let me keep knowing my own.

I closed the door

But you were the one who

Lit the exit sign

Above.

t.c.

[conveyingclouds]

Bed head and pajamas

[conveyingclouds]

Your aesthetic is the orange stripes Of lamppost light on your bedroom wall, The blue hue contrast of television light Right before I turn it off, When you lay vulnerable and comfortable As your energy dwindles down To a dull for the night.

[conveyingclouds]

Drowning in the Dark

I wish there was a way

I could open my chest to expose the pain.

It’s been bound up in there for years

And it’s time for it to spill.

I didn’t give this pain a voice

Until it took mine,

Hoping it would silently walk away

If I threw it in the back of my mind;

But it’s not.

It’s done with being silenced

And it’s running towards the exit

That is my mouth.

I didn’t want to name it’s name,

Say the word because it

Slices through the silence.

And we all know what this is

And that it happens to those

Less fortunate

Or caught up somewhere at the wrong time.

They say “you’re so brave to have a voice”

To speak about something that makes you vulnerable.

But this voice isn’t mine that’s telling you my past,

It’s the memory wrapping it’s fingers around my vocal folds

And using them as their own,

Making me say these things,

Forcing me to have others take pity

And silence the room.

I don’t want to have more to talk about,

I thought I didn’t have more to cough up and out,

But it goes and it goes and just when I think solace is near,

There’s a new piece of memory

That unfolds

With new words to be said

And more energy to be drained from my body.

I suppose that’s what I get though.

Four fucking years of silence,

And it owned me then

And it owns me now with my

‘Brave’ voice that it stole.

I’m tired of talking

And being

And feeling.

Let’s erase the past,

Or better yet, forget

How to feel this endless

Pit in my chest.