Tumgik
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
It is August and she weeps for what we’ve left her.
A wet, cold-shoulder summer draped acrost her,
a burden she should not bear.
August begs to be seen. To be heard. She is forgotten.
6 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
I hold it in my hands.
Small, porcelain, soft but not free of bumps.
Absolutely, completely mundane, this egg.
I crack it against the counter-
I split its shell with my thumbs-
I slice the yolk with its own protection and pull open the trash and adjust the flame and all at once it is no longer the same egg.
It is entirely naked and destroyed in my pan on my stove.
I add salt and pepper and a splash of milk and tear it further; breakfast isn’t breakfast without scrambled eggs.
I eat it knowing full well I never cook them enough and later I feel sick and yet I will cook them again tomorrow.
I think of the shell in the trash as I lock the door behind me- the fragile, gentle exterior that holds no true power beyond a comfort.
7 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
the temperature drops as the heat in my cheeks rises;
I can’t keep from smiling.
Your voice fills the air, twisting through the
leaves
branches crickets,
and and
the night joining your song.
You reach out a hand-
-I take it,
and time stops, just for us.
the stars slow, my heart trills, and you swing me around so that I am flying.
If this moment could last forever it should.
the breeze sends a shiver up my spine (the breeze, nothing else) and
I fall from your arms
but
am caught by your lips.
they shield me from the chill but still I tremor.
I feel I could shine in the night above.
We are pulled away by invisible hands in the backs of our shirts
yet a small thread holds
us there, heart-to-heart.
even as I drive away it holds tight to you, a memory that promises not to fade.
it may be an evening or a summer or nothing at all,
but it will be something I won’t forget.
13 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
quieter,
and quieter still.
the night slowly rising from her slumber,
casting her blanket over me.
I listen as she stretches, admire the stars that shake out of her hair.
She reaches out a hand and brushes my eyelids shut,
and I wish for the day to become shorter so that I may see her sooner.
the night is my love,
and while we talk in crickets and silence
I know I am hers too.
4 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
I will not pretend I don’t love you.
I know I do.
The question is how, in what manner, do I feel this love?
Is it the love of a true friend?
The burning of a twin flame?
The love of a lover, of one I wish to hold dear?
It would explain some things, if I wished for you to be my lover;
I don’t believe I do.
It would explain some things, if you were my twin flame;
I don’t believe you are.
It would explain some things, as a true and forever friend;
This I wonder most.
For I know you care truly, despite the jokes you make. Why else would you point out flowering trees I would otherwise miss? Send me pictures of them while we are apart?
And I know I care truly, despite the words I say. Why else would I tell you of chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast that you might otherwise miss? Make you a second milkshake before I had my own?
We care. That much is true. But how much?
I feel as if I stand on a lake in winter, frozen over enough to stand, on but thin enough I remember the water underneath.
My love for you is the ice. I stand upon it, supported by whatever it is, but burdened by the knowledge that I may fall through into something deeper. I both fear and wonder what that may be.
I love you. I won’t pretend I don’t.
I won’t tell you I do.
I love you.
And my god, am I afraid of it.
4 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
— Pat Schneider, “The Patience of Ordinary Things”, from Another River: New and Selected Poems 
8K notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
I stretch out a hand, searching, grabbing
Reaching for a verdict I will not find.
I stretch out a foot, trepid but trying
To touch a trueness i will not know.
I offer out my heart, bleeding alive
Risking a certain life for a loved one.
Despite the hollowness behind your chest
Despite the hollowness behind your acts
Despite the hollowness behind our words
I feel solid in your arms and you in mine.
How could I miss you more from breaths away? Less from across a great divide?
Lend me your warmth and I may stay.
6 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
Deep Water Prompt #2064
Every time I save the world, it gets a little harder to resist. I can probably manage one more show of heroics, before the real me can’t take it anymore. 
185 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
and there is a religion inside me.
I cannot say I know its god
but I know that to her I worship
and to her I have to thank
for all the leaves that rush past me.
for all the drops of water that course my cheeks.
for the intimacy of this life that I am so enthralled in.
she speaks to me in the most silent of ways yet when she calls
I find my knees and learn what it means to pray.
6 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Text: My best friend had no insides. No bones, no heart. She showed me once, after I promised not to tell. 
506 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
I would like to cry, and drown in it.
Let the salt fill my wounds and hurt me.
I am so tired of it all.
4 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
I wonder if a punch hurts less if you see it coming. Your body prepares for it, your mind braces for what it will feel.
Does it hurt more when you’re blindsided? When it comes from behind, out of the blue, with no warning at all? Your skin your mind your heart still soft, unaware of the pain headed towards it?
I wonder if you thought the same.
I suppose you must think that no warning is what’s right. It’s what you did to me after all.
It only took one day. One night of worry, one afternoon of relief, and a month of hurt. I never saw it coming. You’ve known.
4 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
Deep Water Prompt #2014
The Tangle didn’t used to be a nightmare. It used to be a garden for the youngest prince, where trees bent to keep the sun out of his eyes, and a carpet of flowers grew in his footsteps.
272 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
I am too easily moved,
Blown in winds weak and mighty.
A single drop causes me to bend,
And a storm wrings me dry.
I never liked it about myself but today I realized
that because I bend
I am still standing.
4 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
Do you know how much I miss you? How often I think of you? I’m probably gone entirely from your mind, honestly. I’m not really surprised. I’ve read and reread through old messages until I couldn’t anymore and had to delete them. Still not sure that was a good thing. I saw a lot of things that I’ve said that I regret. I see how I was a strain, how my insecurities would make being with me hard. You didn’t deserve that, that pressure or responsibility or any of it. I truly am sorry. I don’t know what good sending this message would do. You don’t love me anymore. It can’t be helped. And I really, truly, have no idea if you are someone I could be with again. Don’t get me wrong- I loved you and I still do, deeply. I don’t regret any of the time we spent together. You made me so happy, and were so supportive of me for so long. I am so grateful for it. It’s just, I still can’t help but wonder if you felt the same, at any point. I know you were under stress and were so busy, and family and school and you come first, but I still wonder if I was ever in there. How much of me did you enjoy? How much did you really love? How much of me was too much or too little or just never right?
I wish I could’ve seen it coming. I still can’t tell if you did. I’m stuck between wishing for you to never hurt, and wanting you to feel how this has made me feel. How it is to love someone so deeply you keep on going when they won’t find time fo you, and to have them say they’re glad you made it work but then avoid them even when you’re together, and then to call, one of the only times they’ve ever called, and tell you they’re done. To call it a break and that they need to work on themselves, but in the five days since you’ve seen them (less, I know what that last goodnight meant) fall out of love for no reason at all. To lose someone and not be able to blame them, to be alone in your grief and have no one to blame but yourself. Do you feel anything at all? Do you miss the texting, the goodmorning and good nights, the pet names and the video kisses, the inside jokes and the raunchy stuff I always picked the wrong time for? Or is it all gone like it never really happened? I wish I could ask. I wish I could know.
But I wouldn’t like the answer would I.
No.
I don’t think I would.
4 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
I can’t help but dream of you,
How your lips caress mine.
I can’t help but dream of two,
You and I intertwined.
I miss your warmth and the heat of your love
And wonder if you’d forget me.
I saw you as my first morning dove,
Now I know there’s nothing as deadly.
You left me for what?
On a whim, on a dare?
To work on yourself, but
That doesn’t seem fair.
I did what I could and I did what I said.
It wasn’t enough to keep you.
You did what I should and left me with dread,
It shouldn’t be couldn’t be true.
Alone here I sleep with you in my dreams
Haunting me day and night.
You want to be friends you want to redeem
What I couldn’t fight.
I am left lonely.
And you are left free.
It is wrong, I know it to be.
4 notes · View notes
poodlesauce · 3 years
Text
Day 2.
I feel lonelier than I have in a long time. 419 days, to be specific.
I see you in everything. I see you in sunlight dancing across the walls, I see you in the pillow I hold at night, I see you in the tears falling on my hands.
I can hear you, too. In the jokes others make, in the phrases you taught me, in the glimpses of our life together that never stop running through my mind.
I’m surrounded by you, entirely. And yet I’ve never been farther.
I miss you so much.
Please come back.
Please call.
Please.
4 notes · View notes