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arguscallous · 7 months

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I find peace in kneading, in dirty hands and full sinks, in smile stretched mouths with crumbs kissing cheeks. I know what I'm worth, learned with the first "good job," earned standing on a creaky wooden chair, with that first foray into dough sticky fingers.

I remember a home that was never really mine, and go in circles debating if I have the right to mourn; I wasn't wanted, but god did I want.

I had a beloved bedtime story, and it went like this;

Three cups of flour, one tablespoon of powdered milk, one and a half of baking powder, a teaspoon of salt. Slowly mix in two cups of warm water. Knead until those words bubbling in your gut are trapped in the dough instead. Rest, shape, fry.

I heard it first in rasping grandmother's voice, I tell it to myself not enough and too much.

#poetry #spilled ink #vent poem #thats my grannys frybread recipe it's a lil different from the ones i find online but it's my favorite #we serve it with sour plum jam and sometimes with some thin slices of steak when we have the money #it does take so so.much kneading tho </3 #we made it together sometimes. on nights i was restless and she was especially patient

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arguscallous · 7 months

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I feel like milk teeth, a part of a whole; they exist, they serve their purpose, they fall away.

I feel like the eighth wash of paint on canvas; the tone is set, the shadows are past, the highlights are just ahead.

I feel like a process, and am scared that the artist is ashamed; the snarls and burrs in this rough woven scarf are too much, and I will be unraveled. I would not allow myself rage, knowing that undoubtedly the thread would be better spent.

I feel like I am the artist, and that turns fear to dread. I have never finished a project in my life and do not intend to start now.

Do you feel complete?

#poetry #prompted writing #writing this while waiting for my (constantly late) therapist to show up

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arguscallous · 10 months

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I pretend that my heart is a small animal, sheltered in the cavern of my body; each pump of blood another weary snap of teeth. I pretend that this animal has been injured, and the cavern of my body is it's only refuge. And it hurts still, but less now; it has weathered storm after storm, and always I allow myself pride at how well I've protected it. How could I be anything but? I am the animal. I am the haven. I am happy with what I could do.

#poetry #spilled ink #original poetry #it's summer which means my mental illness never existed

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arguscallous · 11 months

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I dream like pulling teeth, I dream of pulling teeth

One by one out my skull, bare the pain and make myself beautiful, make a bloody smile quiet and dainty and meek and everything a lady should be

I dream of helplessness, nightmare and a hope; what if I couldn't fight? What if this fear of my body was ripped out? Would you love me if I was properly weak, if you had no reason to cower?

What if I cut away these rough edges, took sandpaper to the cracks. What if I turned broken bottles into sea glass.

#poetry #spilled ink #vent poem #hmm hmm its. hard to have a body i think #i love it; bright home of my soul. sweet sighing voice and hands that fight to no longer tremble #its strong. its soft and warm and when my beloveds are close i can hold carry protect keep them in my arms #its easy for me to love it when its nice #harder when i can lift my beloved over my shoulder easy as could be #and we all have to remember #“oh. they could really hurt me.”#the muscle is hidden with purposefully kept layers of fat and affected cuteness #the anget that sings unkempt is buried easy enough. puns and fun facts and silly questions hide how bad a part of my wants to bite #its still there tho and thats. scary?#the reminder that kind as i want to be theres just as much that could would craves to hurt something...#part of the interest in being a service top tbh is i hurt someone then its because they want it

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arguscallous · 1 year

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Does the caterpillar die, sitting in her chrysalis?

It's a change. It's an ache, running up and down my spine; remembering the differences, what used to be. The body eating itself, bit by bit, designing it's own future.

I refuse to let it be death.

What died inside of you?

#poetry #spilled ink #prompted writing #i thought about being sad with this prompt but the weather is nice and i am full of good tiramisu #the little kid i used to be isnt *dead.* not to be mourned #im different now. almost unrecognizable. isnt that a joy!#the hope is still there. old dreams known for the playthings they were. still i am struck by the wonder and curiosity of my childhood #its different. not gone

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arguscallous · 1 year

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Today is my favorite kind of day;

The snow floods the sidewalk, becomes mush under our shoes, becomes white spots against brown fabric, becomes childish glee.

Our work is done, no specter of responsibility to haunt our doorways. We belong to ourselves, today.

I sit, comfortably quiet, with a bowl of soup. You sit, blissfully, with me.

#poetry #spilled ink #original poetry #it's a good day #we went to the market: made fancy tomato soup with grilled cheese for dinner #we got to feed the birds and one ate food right off of my beloved!#tonight we're going to share some cheap wine and play some nostalgic games together #and throughout it all im comfortable. happy.

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arguscallous · 1 year

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@nosebleedclub 's March prompts. #28, Ouroborus.

Resurrecting myself again and again, snap crackle pop-ing fingers slip between the cracks of the old headstone, knock on wood and the rotten coffin presents itself, a showman;

"Come one, come all, see the beast Ouroboros! Watch as Past consumes Present, as Tail becomes Maw!"

Line up the beer bottles and grab that old peashooter, one new day for every piece of shattered glass. Pick up the scattered reflections like pulling teeth and isn't that a fun one, white coats and irrational fear.

How long can the body rest before "memory" becomes "theft," how many photo frames cracked, how many repetitions of

that's not me it's not me it's not not me

Catch the double negatives, ball 'em up in your fist with a kiss for good luck, send off the poor fuck they adored and pray with us now

it's not me it's not me it's not not not me

#poetry #vent poem #original poetry #prompted writing #im actually quite fond of this one :D #originally wrote it in docs and had played around with alignment but like #obvi can't do that on tumblr so i tried using different colors to get across the like. disjointed? separated? effect that i wanted #also its fun the color options are such a good feature #i just don't use em here because i worried about eyestrain #i tested how the red looks on most themes tho and it *seemed* fine?

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arguscallous · 1 year

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Today, I pretend to be someone else:

She adores sundresses, wearing them over jeans and under trenchcoats to hide from the chill. She cooks, bakes, lives for any excuse to create; to feed the people she loves.

She doesn't fight, knows when to be meek, to hunch her shoulders; turn the bulk into softness again, strength a quirk rather than a threat. Her hugs are only a little too tight.

She has a sweet voice, never quite outgrew her stutter; words slipping off her tongue too fast, tangled. It's charming, when she does it; poor thing is trying so hard.

I miss myself, when we have to be her; the slow monotone of my words, beating along to our heart. The possessiveness she can't show no matter how hard we both want. Her teeth cover mine, sheep dull over ragged fox.

#trans poetry #poetry #spilled ink #vent poem #booo i hate the closet all my homies hate the closet #not my cis-sona tho i put a lot of effort into her

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arguscallous · 1 year

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Another thing to run from, filled with enough nothing to choke on; gasping on the void.

A horror story until it's a comedy, tragedy plus time.

The last place I felt safe, then the monster crawling in my stomach.

The house as

#vent poem #prompted writing #spilled ink #meh. i live in an apartment now; theres mice and the heaters dont really work and most of the neighbors are assholes #but its mine #the tragedy of comfort turning to rot familiar smells becoming another ache #wishing itd all burn so you wouldnt have to choose to not go back #ya'know the normal growing up things

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arguscallous · 1 year

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@nosebleedclub 's February prompts. #28, memorial.

Today, I'll remember how your hand felt, on the edge of cold from sweating in that too hot autumn afternoon. I'll remember playing cards, an intricate game I didn't know the name of; just that you'd laugh, and it sounded like home.

I want to forget about the rum in my veins, how you always looked a little sad; how I couldn't justify it without spilling too many secrets. We were already soaked, saturated in the night.

Tomorrow, next month, next year; I'll work up the courage to call you again. Not yet, not yet; I'm not ready. You must be so busy anyway, you were always better than me. College graduate, and I'm just lucky to be here.

Today, there's a dress hanging in the closet; I think you'd like seeing me in it.

#sapphic poetry #poetry #spilled ink #vent poem #prompted writing #she was my best friend for a couple summers #we'd walk our dogs together. go back to her place and binge watch these youtubers she was obsessed with #i definitely had a crush on her but didn't know if she felt the same way #and never really got the courage to ask. even with a water bottle full of shitty lemonade and bottom shelf rum #she helped my apply for college but. yeah #i miss her but don't want to bother her more...#which is definitely kinda cowardly; i should at least give her a *choice* if she wants to reject me fine #or if she wants to even just be friends again id be grateful...#but ya'know. the terrifying ordeal of being known and all that

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arguscallous · 1 year

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Just one, really;

When will it feel like enough? These hands can't possibly ache forever, can they. The light on the horizon with shine bright, glorious someday. Someday your knee will bump innocently against mine, and it will feel like peace.

How long do I have to wait, how many red X's on the calendar. I want to know the anniversary; celebrate the shift from this to a semblance of okay.

What are your questions?

#poetry #prompted writing #we stan the semicolon in this house its very much my favorite punctuation mark #the range she has... unforgettable stunning dreamy #im getting better! its exciting! it just doesnt feel like enough yet #but i also actually have hope that someday it will?#someday ill write about flowers and the view from the bridge and strangers on the street #and there wont even be one line about wanting to jump!!!#im *happy* excited joyous! hopefull again!

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arguscallous · 1 year

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Today, I made soup; a mother's recipe, still gripping her childs hand.

Yesterday, my skull was rotting from the inside; I will taste blood until the gape in my gums heals.

She taught me how to hold a knife, how to knead bread until our shoulders ached, how leftover batter could be made into a treat just for us.

I learned how to do laundry when I lived alone, I've watched hours of YouTube tutorials learning to clean, I still don't remember to brush my teeth.

I don't think she was perfect. The soup is pretty good, though.

What is perfect?

#poetry #spilled ink #prompted writing #its corn chowder which like technically isnt a soup i know but chowder is a gross looking word #its really good ive forgiven my mother for a lot with a full stomach #i had to go under anesthesia for the tooth yesterday and it hurts a lot *and* i apparently cant have milk!!?#extremely distressing i love drinking milk

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arguscallous · 1 year

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Remember how small you were, both of us little birds? Banajaanh; fresh from the nest, winter still staining your cheeks

Chirping that bright laugh, honey sticky hands clapping. We ate sweetbread, black rice and maize

It's foreign on my tongue, now.

#poetry #spilled ink #original poetry #im learning ojibwemowin again #kinda nice to feel connected to a granny again #this one was originally written for a prompt but heck is it late

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arguscallous · 1 year

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I have to believe there's joy, that hope is still here; still alive

One day these tears will be happy! My family will be strong, my lovers will be safe

I will smile more than scream, I will help again. None of the mouths around me will go hungry.

#poetry #spilled ink #vent poem #all i can do right now is feed my elders #its not enough but its a little difference. its a start #miss j is still going through the soup we gave her last time #shes vvv fond of it. good that she gets something homemade again poor lass barely has time to rest let alone cook #so so sweet when she asks for chocolate too i love giving her candies

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arguscallous · 1 year

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@nosebleedclub 's February prompts. #6, instead of you.

Like a flower in my palm, little one. Torn grass thrown in the wind, stained fingers and dirt under our nails.

Dandelions, still yellow; still alive. Your favorite flower, if anyone asked. If you ever sat in the field, hand clutching anyone else's.

If, instead of you; the little girl they wanted lived.

Changeling child, left the bed empty and cold. Grew up, angry and cold.

#spilled ink #poetry #vent poem #prompted writing #still constantly sobbing about ''let me tell you a story about changelings''#once again contemplating what life would be like if i was born actually lovable #like. im charming according to all my friends but i know i wasnt born that way #or at least wasnt treated that way?#shoutout to all the homies that went undiagnosed in childhood and were constantly wondering what was wrong with them #trying to fix yourself while never knowing what was ''wrong''

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arguscallous · 1 year

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And I'll pray to any God's that are listening

Oh father,

Oh patron of our cherry wine

Oh climber of these thick ivy vines

Make this worth it, make it a trail! A test! A hero's journey.

Let there be resolution, let there be an arc; a lightning strike of inspiration

Something

Turn this rambling brook of a life into whatever infrastructure you need, give me a purpose

Oh god, how else should I plead.

Which color candles, do I burn the incense? Light the rosemary?

Take communion in fermented dandelion, taste who's holy body in pollen and honey?

How do I pray, what can I trade, how much do I have to be willing to give away.

To whatever God's are listening:

You can have it all,

Just please, when I must fall

Let it be from grace, for tragedy

On my own sword, whatever you can do; save me from mediocrity

#poetry #spilled ink #original poetry #vent poem #seriously im filling up the queue by editing our drafts from the past year and wine drunk me just really likes rhyming??

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arguscallous · 1 year

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I am tired of being in love, draining like a volt on your tongue, little zips of electricity scattering till I can feel them making love with the blood cells, burning and mistaking the pain for being alive

The hope has to fly, has to soar, has to make that perilous journey to the other side! Not unscathed but at least alive, what is she worth once her wings stop beating? What am I worth once I stop smiling?

What can these hands do but knead loaf after loaf, communicating trust, admiration, simple care with every slice! All I have are recipes from a family that never felt like mine, all I know are words that come spilling up my throat, advice I'll give but can't love myself enough to follow, and it's all wrapped around again

I want the peace we never had as children, I want a mother who cared and a father that isn't too little too late, I want forgiveness for a sin I never meant to commit, freedom from a curse I shouldn't have to bear;

I'd have invited all the witches in! Shared tea with every fairy, answered all the riddles three! I'd have read enough stories to know how to get the happy ending! I'd never have to learn that life is rarely clean, rarer fair

I'd still be able to lead you to the kitchen table, put the bread knife in your hand.

#poetry #spilled ink #original poetry #vent poem #wine drunk me apparently really likes to try for an actual rhyme structure??

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