they really did eat
tho; lay it out real
simple for a twink:
land it in my lil fairy
ring, in my lil tree
twunk, in my pond,
in my river. lay it all out
at my alter. and then,
they have nerve. “but
u can … see me? i didn’t
know ur kind could see
the children of the forest!”
I have a difficult relationship
with the day. But bein’ surrounded
by friends like this
is just what I’ve always wanted.
I feel like I could be better
about writing to my parents, though.
I think about the game I paused
my avatar guided by a map waypoint for
a side quest
I’m supposed to kill a local warlord
to stop his reign of terror
my reward, increased experience points
a new gun
The strokes quickened—Frantic now.
Details skimmed. Splotches of red.
The dicing was raw. Tap tap tap—
That’s how the skin was pierced.
That’s why the strokes
refused to dry.
we drop into one of the void spaces / so common in these games / only to land in the bottomless dark / in a place / both within and outside the game / where true life / twinkles out of reach / resembling merry moons / orbiting an absent planet / and the only way out is dying
We think video games are literature, and so why shouldn't there be literature about video games? That's the question we're hoping to answer here. Read more.
