Images Cant Speak

A maybe poets house

[tattooedechoes]

Burnt Memories

autumn smells more

of smoke and fire

than summer ever has

[tattooedechoes]

A Lesson

healing is not

something you complete,

it is something

you continue to do

again

and

again

and again.

you will keep healing

I promise you,

you will keep healing

[tattooedechoes]

Still

it was genuine and nice

sitting beside you on your bed

the gentle autumn sun

cast across us,

and I understood in that moment

that you are exactly

what peace feels like.

[tattooedechoes]

This

I want to scream I want to cry To do both until my lungs give out Until there's nothing left in me Of whatever this is. . . . How much longer will this last? How much deeper will this gouge itself into me? I can't take it. I can't take the silence or the awkwardness of not knowing what to do or to say . . . You are still my everything but it somehow feels like I've already lost you even though I know that's not true What happened to me? What happened to you? . . . I can't wear the ring and it makes me panic it feels like I'm saying I'm done with you Saying anything to you feels like I'm annoying you Everything feels wrong. What happened? . . . I love you It feels like I need to say it Like I need to repeat it Like if I stop it will no longer be true I don't know what happened. . . . I'm sorry. I feel like I'm ruining us. Like I already have. If I could undo it I would. By gods above I would.

[tattooedechoes]

Vulnerable

Something happened on Friday. I don't know how to define it but the tension since has been eating away at me and I don't know how to fix it. . . . Please tell me how to fix it...

[tattooedechoes]

The First Night

that first night without you

is the hardest.

the night that comes

after we part ways

for the however many-th time,

to our seperate houses

because living together

just wasn't in the cards.

no matter how well it worked

in every way except financially.

.

.

that first night without you

the bed feels the most empty

the sheets feel the most wrong

the world feels the most incomplete.

my thoughts are too loud,

even now.

you bring a peace and calm

i have been unable to replicate

regardless of how hard i try.

god i miss you.

[tattooedechoes]

Songs of Storms

the child inside me

who loved storms

is gone.

all that remains

is tatt,

who hears the thunder

and droning sirens,

sees the white flashes

of quick sharp lightning,

and can only think

of the horrible future

we are destined to live.

of storms worse than this

of upended lives

and ruined nature

drowning streets

in unending rivers.

all i have now is fear

of a future i have yet

to bear witness to.

[tattooedechoes]

Spring Showers

the gentle sound

of rain

hitting roof tiles

reminds me of you

now

it fills me with longing

to be in your arms

surrounded by

the scent and warmth

of home.

[tattooedechoes]

Golden hour

Of the warm sunlit room,

The afternoon sun

Breaching the windowsill,

And scorching the candles.

There is a soul here.

No blank white walls,

Harsh fluorescent lights,

Or dark shade.

Just warmth

And life.

[tattooedechoes]

Finding peace

To sit so calm in the backyard,

Feels once more like home.

The green grass,

The purr of a cat,

The soft hum of bees,

The sounds of familiar birds.

.

.

No more deafening traffic,

Or low flying planes,

That had started to make me

Panic.

[tattooedechoes]

Australian sunsets

The sounds of corellas,

Or a gang of cockatoos.

A flock of large specific birds,

I can’t quite identify,

That always depart,

So late in the afternoon.

[tattooedechoes]

Warnings

How do I explain

That it feels as though I have

To trigger warn my timeline,

Put a content warning

On the very body

I’m walking around in.

Because my scars

Are both outside and in,

And I know that can be confronting

And scary,

And unwanted.

But I hate this feeling

Of being unwelcome

In safe spaces

Made for those like me.

[tattooedechoes]

Seasonal hits

The hot muggy air,

The persistent cool breeze.

A memory long lost,

Comes right back to me.

Of autumn,

Or summer,

Or hell,

Maybe spring.

[tattooedechoes]

Pride.

I did it.

I finished the first chapter of my novel,

And in a giddy rush

I shared it with everyone I could.

And now there’s only silence,

Empty nothings.

.

.

And I am suddenly 8 years old again,

Giving a hand made gift to my father

And getting nothing in response.

Finding it later,

Cast so carelessly aside.

.

.

There I am,

Sitting alone,

Clutching it,

Crying.

Because I thought he would love it,

Love me,

If it was good enough.

.

.

If I was good enough.

.

.

I’m not good enough.

[tattooedechoes]

Old hints of homes

The air by the window tonight

Smells like my grandparents house.

A melancholy memory.

Wondering if they know me,

If I will ever see their house again

And catch this same scent

[tattooedechoes]

Colour Stains

Blue

Blue

An overwhelming colour

A simple colour

.

.

I can’t stand the colour blue

It was a beautiful colour once

Now all it ever does

Is remind me of you

.

.

Of how destructive we were

Of how much I truely loved you

Of every awful thing

I somehow lived though

.

.

I hate the colour

blue.

I hope you hate the colour

red.

[tattooedechoes]

The Intermission

Living with that

Suffocating feeling

And eventual sting

Of the failed performance

Was easier than confronting

The feelings I had about who I was.

.

.

I had been so caught up

In that gender performance,

Comforted by the safety

It promised to provide.

I hadn’t noticed it killing me

Softly and slowly

As I failed to connect

And failed to do it right.

.

.

It started to feel like the stage

Was screaming at me.

The audience judging me

Ready to ridicule

When I set foot on one side

.

.

I have abandoned the stage.

Curtain call

I’m done.

I can’t keep doing this

When it hurts me so much.

.

.

Now I’m face to face with my demons,

And they all share my teeth,

And dark saturated eyes.

Their anger resting so close to my flesh

They demanded one thing.

.

.

A name.

.

.

So I spent some weeks

Thinking about me

About who I am

And who I want to be.

Thought about trying something new

A new name

New ways to be addressed

Something that fit more

Than what I’d been

So obsessed with.

.

.

It took days

It took time

But I found something that fit.

A placeholder really

I had told myself;

Until I used it one day

To order a drink

And the way my soul felt

When they said my new name

Is something I don’t think

I can let go of

So easily.

.

.

So let’s give this a shot

Fuck it

Why not.

.

.

Oh how I wish it were that easy.

.

.

Instead every new person I tell

Feels so anxiety inducing,

And I find myself waiting

For someone’s negative reaction.

For the disgust

And rejection

Refusal

Denial

Dismissal.

And it’s so utterly terrifying.

.

.

I’ve been able to get by

Quite easily really

Before now

Before it meant something.

Because I could pretend,

I could put on that performance,

And hide my orientation

Behind the sex of my partner.

I could hide and remain

Secure and safe

But now to be my true self

I have to take that away.

.

.

I’m so scared

Change is terrifying.

But I know it gets better

So I guess I’ll keep trying,

Hi my name is Tatt

And my pronouns are they/them