ct_and_skylines

Navigating through life by way of paper and pen

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  • ct_and_skylines 8w

    Love slips through our hands like sand and slides through like the blood in our veins.
    Hearts carry blood, liquid love.
    Ours to hold not to keep.
    Feel, pass, release.
    Arbitrary world of actions, my choice and everyone else’s. It feels lonely.
    I desire to linger in the feel of the “pass” ; swift anticipation of what will happen next. It’s all the same. I’ll get high in the motion and feel dull in the stillness. Im a weak heart beat praying for the AED. The motion brings me alive.
    Then I am in time for everything in this present that is always mine.

    #mirakee #writer #poem #rhyme #read #wordsmith #author #books #emotions #lonely #writerly

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    God

    I am a pet in a cage and I am my own keeper.
    Captive and captor. What will we do when we want to be free? Who is student and who is teacher? Where will I go when someone opens the gate? Why does it take this long to get out of the cycle of pain? If it is important for us to feel love, why don’t you shine light on the easy way out?


    -CT

  • ct_and_skylines 13w

    I can’t help but talk about love.
    @miraquill #mirakee #love is in everything it #hurts too and quenches the thirst of the devoted and seeps into painful memories one must live with… and let go.
    Eventually. #writing to #breathe #creativity

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    Carrot On A String

    It is not surprising that you are falling away from me. I think you assume wrongly if you believe I will eat out of the palm of your hand. By now I know what a dangling carrot looks like and I am no longer baited in. That’s a game the ego plays when it’s bored and uncommitted to the present. What is there to take seriously if you lack accountability? And what if you lack accountability by subconscious choice because your heart was sent through the ringer? I get it. I’m aware of my patterns and I don’t want to play games full of booby traps and bait. An adventure where there is no treasure. There won’t be an end till one of us stops playing pretend and gets serious about their true desires. If we stop kindling this fire, you’ll strike a match with someone else, or maybe I will. I’m saying our fire is burning, but it’s dwindling and it feels like I’m losing your attention. I don’t feel you like I once did. Just wait, you’ll reach out tonight or in the morning to keep me dangling. I won’t be waiting and I am not apologetic. You are not my carrot. I don’t carry bait. What you see is what you get because I’m deep on the surface and you want to glide throughout and not think twice to contemplate the damage that’s being done by playing a game that can never be won.


    -Christian Taylor

  • ct_and_skylines 13w

    #mirakee #miraquill at it again with the #love #poems and #sad shenanigans #poetry #wordsmith #author

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    A Lullabye

    You’re so pretty it felt like you didn’t belong in my bed.
    One person’s noise is another person’s lullaby,
    I slept in your spot last night
    on the futon,
    but I won’t tell you that,
    no I won’t tell you that.
    I hoped to feel you
    and the residual energy
    and presence of your body
    on my pillows in hopes
    to find your scent in my blankets.
    Beautiful angel.
    Holding my hand as we
    walk upon this mass grave.
    We know we’re going down
    and it’s your lips I wish to kiss.


    -Christian Taylor

  • ct_and_skylines 15w

    Passing By

    You said, “this feels like a dream,”that’s why you’ll walk away, because dreams pass and reality stays.
    You held my hand a moment longer and looked me in eyes; I felt the emotion grow stronger.
    You were saying “goodbye”.



    -C.T.

  • ct_and_skylines 15w

    It’s one of my very first poems. Edited.
    Thanks for reading. #wod #child @miraquill #writersnetwork #original #repost

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    The Kids of Holes in Worn Socks

    We, the kids of holes
    in worn socks.
    Stayed up too late
    On the plates of rooftops,
    we escaped.
    The stars so bright,
    the moon on our faces
    Places where we seemed to feel
    most natural and
    alive were in the
    arms of the night.
    Oils thinly slated on crinkled
    foreheads of curious filled and
    wanderlust faces,
    where the moonlight glistened
    like ripples above their eyes.
    In those moments they were blissful
    and lost. Full of visions, dreams to
    come to pass,
    No direction
    Lost....
    Do they not know they are
    to become jaded?
    Saying sorry too much
    and always waiting?
    For people, for their own blood,
    for all the love.
    The whiskey glass is your object of mesmerization.
    The smoky air in your lungs is soothing your heart with a warm hug. Happiness comes, and you want to force it to stay. Anxiety sinks in and you think you have all these issues in your brain. Being consumed
    by redundancy and mundane living.
    Reality continues to be the fist
    upon the door that knocks,
    when all you ever wanted
    was to be happy
    and wear a pair
    of new socks.


    -Christian Taylor

  • ct_and_skylines 16w

    Can’t run from the feeling. I wish it was only a dream. @miraquill #kwansaba #writersnetwork #depression #sadness #author #wod

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    Depression

    I feel entrenched in dreams floating by. Dreams carry possibilities and are boundlessly present. I am grasping at realities not realized. I close the blinds and lay lifeless. My life floats by like timeless dreams. Take my hand, carry me to paradise. There I’m alive and the heaviness subsides.



    -Christian Taylor

  • ct_and_skylines 16w

    Longing for love in the dark at night feels like a splinter in your finger you forgot to pull out with tweezers. #poetic #pain #mirakee @writersnetwork @miraquill #writer #love

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    A Splintered Heart in the Dark

    We’ll turn this pain into laughter and forget it ever hurt.
    We’ll wake up in the morning and say we’ll do better; when the suns up it hurts less.
    If I love harder am I taking from my heart and bleeding alone in the dark?
    A question to which I have a lifetime to answer, however long I may live.
    Is this why it’s easier to stay in the dark so I don’t get hurt again?


    -Christian Taylor

  • ct_and_skylines 16w

    In my body, I will find Home.
    #books #author #hope #mirror #wod @miraquill #gratitude for the #gift of writing.

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    Looking For Home

    In the mirror I am floating, floating along. A million pieces dissipate into thin air, but the flaws stare back at me, I cannot hide from the mirror.
    They pause in time I cannot run and this partial person can find ways to soothe but I hope these pieces will come back. Other people are whole masterpieces in my eyes and I see a discombobulated figment in my imagination, in the mirror. Always floating, floating yearning to come home, not to be an empty house; to be whole and warm.

    My own home inside.
    Wherever I go I am always home.


    -Christian Taylor

  • ct_and_skylines 16w

    Closure Slips Through My Hands Like Sand

    If I spoke to him one more time I’d tell him I found closure in a dream. I find closure in dreams and movies, and in waking life I have to find forgiveness.
    If I spoke to him one more time I’d tell him like I’d told him before: “I like the way the world feels when I’m next to you.”
    In saying that, that means I no longer have to explore. I found you, but you looked me in the eye and said “No”. You set me loose and I don’t know where to look, so God gave me dreams and that’s the closure I find because I can’t find them in religions or books. It’s okay. One day I’ll enjoy the way the world feels when I only have myself to hold, and that’s just around the corner. I don’t wait for you any longer. Be well, past time lover.


    -Christian Taylor

  • ct_and_skylines 16w

    I can’t help but remember. It’s why I’m a writer.
    #writer #stories #loss #books #read #nostalgia #wod @miraquill

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    Nostalgia Can Bite like a Dog

    Dukey the little plush black dog that reminds me of my bond with my sister. She had a brown plush dog named Chippys. They were best friends in our stories we would create.
    Casper, our white and blue tipped parakeet that my mom loved infinitely. I wished for him to live a long time but he died in the midst of a violent lightning storm conflicted and frightened by loud thunder and lightning. He would repeat what we would say, phrases like “shut up” when we were talking and when we fought he timely said “fuck you” and had us laughing. I’d keep all the cats that introduced themselves into our lives but they either left, or died tragically and I wished they would have escaped in peace. Life has its way and I had no control. When I was little these are things I took with me; my only wish is that the animals Rest In Peace.


    -Christian Taylor