#1593

“Invitation (to Leave)”

If you are a biggot, get out.
If you are a biggot, a racist, a bully,
A troll-er, a trash-er, a happiness bash-er…
If you’re proud of ignorance, well hey, there’s the door,
Go and offer your opinions no more.
Get out!
Get out!

[ A snarky parody of Shel Silverstein’s poem “Invitation”. ]

#1591

it seems these days I just want the dark, the dark and the silence, to curl inward until I am small and round and impenetrable, until my back doesn’t hurt anymore, my arms don’t hurt, my head doesn’t hurt, my heart doesn’t hurt, so many things hurt and nothing seems to touch any of them, not Imitrex or Advil or wrist braces like gauntlets on my arms, only the dark and the silence soothe, only in sleep am I someone who moves without pain, who flies over canyons or swims through oceans, through magma, who bends fire and water and earth, and for every dimension and law of physics I control in my dreams there is another thing uncontrollable when I wake, I doubt that’s irony but it’s cruel anyway

#1590

Lines I (Probably) Won’t Use When I Propose to My Girlfriend
but that are true nonetheless

I could watch you play Assassin’s Creed forever. Will you marry me?

I’m not physically capable of cutting my own butternut squash. Will you marry me?

You’re the only one who takes my crane fly paranoia seriously. Will you marry me?

You not only get my obscure Jurassic Park references, but you make your own. Will you marry me?

Together, you and I will be the strongest couple in the entire world. Will you marry me?

I find your intense hatred of Paul Revere adorable. Will you marry me?

You introduced me to Avatar the Last Airbender. Will you marry me?

You introduced me to Dexter. I hate you for that, but will you marry me?

I’m sorry I introduced you to Cowboy Bebop. And Swordspoint. And Under the Poppy. Will you marry me?

I really like making out with you. Will you marry me?

I want to spend the rest of my life listening to you talk like Steve Di Schiavi. Will you marry me?

#1586

“Haytham Motherfucking Kenway”

I just want to write
a haiku about Haytham
why is this so hard

he’s fucking badass
king of sass and murdering
what more do you want

he’s the kind of guy
who makes you want to switch sides
(sorry, Ezio)

like steel wrapped in silk
Assassin blood, Templar drive
do not fuck with him

just skip through Black Flag
go from AC3 to Rogue
Haytham FTW

problematic fave
I always love the villains
but can’t you see why?

not the best dad, sure
at least he passed on his sass
Connor, be grateful

#1585

Sure, they’ll call you King and God, but they’ll also call you Sacrifice. They’ll bring you gold and precious stones and perfumes, but where will they be when your hands are bleeding around cold iron? What good will all those pretty names do you when it comes time to produce a miracle out of stilled flesh? You’re only the prodigal son if you return from the darkness triumphant; otherwise you’re just another failed revolutionary who thought himself a prophet. Wouldn’t it be easier, then, to just stay gone and leave this world to fend for itself? Don’t you remember how heavy that crown is, beloved?

#1584

sometimes it feels like I am back on the other side of the mirror, palms pressed to the cold glass as I beg “thee to me, sister, thee to me” and it scares me, sure, but I know I pulled you through the glass once and I know I can do it again if it takes me a lifetime of chanting, because I may not be patient but I am stubborn as hell

#1582

Cigarettes and broken locks
I’ve loved you since I saw you
Fairy rings and guitar strings
I’ve loathed you since I met you

And I
I wanna tear the words out of your skin
I wanna give the wolves something to talk about
Oh, oh, oh, oh

Cherry lips and valentines
You pull me every way
Angel dust and razor rust
I push your thought away

And I
I wanna tear the words out of your skin
I wanna give the wolves something to talk about
Oh, oh, oh, oh

You wish on stars, I spit on karma
You sing love songs, I drink vodka
You’re as bright as the sun
I’m as sharp as the moon
We’re bad news, oh, we’re bad news
So why can’t I let this go?

And I
I wanna tear the words out of your skin
I wanna give the wolves something to talk about
Oh, oh, oh, oh

I wanna tear the words out of your skin
I wanna give the wolves something to talk about


I heard part of this song in a dream inspired (I assume) by this most recent Band vs Band page. Wrote the rest based on the emotions in the dream.