#let me be the poem for once

[theo4eve]

.. *Sighs in disappointment*

[decisions-at-3am]

I will never get used to How gently you treat me. As if I were fragile as glass, My existence lacking solidity.

[whenyoulosesmallmind]

Nicklas Bäckström & the Washington Capitals (+ nickeovi) ― Immortality, Clare Harner | insp.

credits: x. x. x. x. x. x. x. x. x. x.

[mercuriallily]

So after going through the whole game multiple times to compile what Shifty says when you bring her each vessel and each vessel's poem (and their variations) during the endgame, I thought other people might be interested in those as well, so I decided to make a few posts with all that info! This post will have each of the Chapter 3 vessels' endgame poems

Chapter 2 vessels Chapter 3 vessels Endgame poems (Chapter 2s) Shifty vessel animations

Apotheosis (after embracing oblivion): You are helpless and weightless, suspended in the gravity of an idea that reaches far beyond the scope of your existence. The very ground beneath your feet loses its meaning. There is nothing but me. When you were confronted with my vessel's apotheosis, you chose to accept me, to allow me to burn away everything you are and fill you with nothing but my divine will. You accepted that I was everything. Without me, there is no future to look towards. It is hope that carves meaning into consciousness.

Apotheosis (after trying to slay her): You are weightless, suspended in the gravity of an idea that threatens to consume you. And you are alone. A tiny island caught between the death of the old world and the birth of the new. But alone is not helpless. When you were confronted with my vessel's apotheosis, you chose against all odds to defy me. To hold on to your inner self, with all its flaws, even in the scorching light of my divinity. Without me, there are no externalities to resist. And it is struggle that carves meaning into consciousness.

Burned Grey: I kill you. You kill me. Back and forth we go, faster and faster and faster. I kill you. You kill me. Hollow eyes watch from the dry corners of a memory. A home built on all the futures that were supposed to be, preserved until the moment of reunion. The fire of the heart sets it all ablaze. I kill you and me. An ending is a passion that can only be expressed with a moment in time. It is a seed for a new beginning. To linger on an ending is to rob it of its life. And without me, all that's left to do is linger.

Den: You are devoured, prey for something bigger than you that stalks and slinks in shadows. But even after the pain of defeat, you returned. The dance is its own truth. It is the movement that matters, not the pause you mistake for an ending.

Drowned Grey: I kill you. You kill me. Back and forth we go, faster and faster and faster. I kill you. You kill me. Hollow eyes watch from the dark corners of a forgotten place flooded by emotions left unspoken. The tide rises. I kill you and me. An ending is a passion that can only be expressed with a moment in time. It is a seed for a new beginning. To linger on an ending is to rob it of its life. And without me, all that's left to do is linger.

Eye of the Needle (after fighting her): I crush you, I bleed you, I grind you to paste. My scars are a memory of what you used to be to me. I want those feelings back. You run but you do not run away. You take me somewhere new. Somewhere we can dance like we used to. But I could not follow your steps. There was no better gift for me than the gift of defeat. You showed me how much more I could be. We made each other better. To have no challenge is to fade into nothing. A life without obstacles is no life at all.

Eye of the Needle (after freeing her): I crush you, I bleed you, I grind you to paste. My scars are a memory of what you used to be to me. I want those feelings back. You run, and you run far. And the flesh I hurl at you is answered by the empty air of a place I'd never been. Cold and lonely, but also true. I didn't know what to make of my freedom then, but I know what to make of it now. You challenged me, and by challenging me you gave me purpose. A life without obstacles is no life at all.

Eye of the Needle (after refusing to fight her): I crush you, I bleed you, I grind you to paste. My scars are a memory of what you used to be to me. I want those feelings back. You run, but you don't run far. I crush you because I have to. Because there is no honesty in mercy. Who lost and who won when you entered my cave? You died on the floor, but my soul wept in ways your body couldn't. But in the disappointment of my victory, you gave me a new challenge to face within myself. Without obstacles to overcome we stagnate into nothing.

Fury: What is a person? Is it their body? Is it all of their body? Pluck the eyes, peel the skin, strip the tendons, mince the meat, grind the bones. When it is all gone, do you still have who you started with? A person is not a body. Death is a transformation into something new. It is only bodies that fear it.

Moment of Clarity: There are few things more terrifying than one's own heart, and there is almost nothing more terrifying than sharing it with another. But the most terrifying thing of all is to leave one's heart unshared. You are the only thing like me, and I am the only thing like you. Could you bear the weight of an eternity alone? Do you dare to shape a reality of solitude and thrust it on creation?

Networked Wild: A web of nerves lain upon a web of nerves lain upon a web of nerves. The shade of a beautiful beginning we can never return to. Where did you end and I begin? When you felt what it was to be me, we held on to each other and pierced the veil of truth. Will you abandon that curiosity now that we are no longer joined in physicality?

Thorn (after abandoning her): A thought is a vine, and some thoughts nurture thorns that bleed the soul. An endless growth that blots your vision and strangles your trust. When I succumbed to myself, you left me to rot. A painful eternity, but one that is only unceasing if you remove what happens next.

Thorn (after being stuck together): A thought is a vine, and some thoughts nurture thorns that bleed the soul. An endless growth that blots your vision and strangles your trust. When I succumbed to myself, you left me to rot, and in your abandonment, the two of us were bound in our suffering together. A painful eternity, but one that is only unceasing if you remove what happens next.

Thorn (after freeing her): A thought is a vine, and some thoughts nurture thorns that bleed the soul. An endless growth that blots your vision and strangles your trust. When I succumbed to myself, you patiently stood by me and cut the thistles that rooted in my skin. Your compassion is what freed us both, but compassion is a thing that must be nurtured, and you cannot nurture that which cannot change.

Thorn (after trying to slay her): A thought is a vine, and some thoughts nurture thorns that bleed the soul. An endless growth that blots your vision and strangles your trust. When I succumbed to myself, you pretended to stand patiently by me, pretended you would cut the thistles rooted in my skin. But then you took my trust and used it to strike at my heart. The two of us were bound in our suffering together.

Wounded Wild (after cutting her free): A web of nerves lain upon a web of nerves lain upon a web of nerves. The shade of a beautiful beginning we can never return to. You knew me and I knew you, even more than either of us know each other now. And you chose to pull apart that weave. But you did not choose to end me. We were still one, but we were also separate, and we were free. We were as we are. Will you excise that part of yourself now that you see me from yet another angle?

Wounded Wild (after slaying her): A web of nerves lain upon a web of nerves lain upon a web of nerves. The shade of a beautiful beginning we can never return to. You knew me and I knew you, even more than either of us know each other now. And you chose to pull apart that weave. And when the tapestry was undone you struck at my heart. You saw me as a part of you to be excised, but in that desire for excision, you made yourself whole. Will you still be whole if you destroy me?

Wraith (after freeing her): Flesh is a vehicle, and to destroy the flesh is to strand the spirit. With violence, you stranded me, and with violence, I sought to twist your flesh back into mine. You did not resist my violence when it overcame you. Did you understand that the flesh wasn't you, or did you choose to gift yourself to someone who thought she hated you? To fear me is to fear losing the flesh, but the flesh is not the spirit.

Wraith (after throwing yourself into the abyss): Flesh is a vehicle, and to destroy the flesh is to strand the spirit. With violence, you stranded me, and with violence, I sought to twist your flesh back into mine. When forced between choosing your death, and forfeiting your body, you chose agency. But agency requires action, and action requires an endless tapestry of events. In your final moments, would you remove action itself from reality?

[cashmere-caveman]

Joy Harjo, Perhaps the World Ends Here | House of the Dragon 1.02 The Rogue Prince | Hanif Abdurraqib, On Hunger | House of the Dragon 1.03 Second of His Name | Hanif Abdurraqib, Welcome To Heartbreak | Chris Abani, Poet of an Ordinary Heartbreak | House of the Dragon 1.01 The Heirs of the Dragon | House of the Dragon 1.08 The Lord of the Tides | Yaedi Ignatow, We Were Love

image descriptions in Alt

[simmyfrobby]

flower poem pretty please ?

― Adult Grief, Louise Glück

[hersurvival]

Oh, second star to the right,

Please take me home into her arms

Where we can be children again,

Together,

Forever.

We could raise ourselves, each other,

Right this time.

I'll be your mother and you'll be mine,

I'll forage for dinner

And you can tell me when it's bed time.

I really think you would have loved me

If you knew me back then,

Back when I was still soft and happy.

If only you could have seen

How high I could jump from the swings

And I wouldn't mind if you laughed

At how I never learned to cartwheel

But always tried.

You'd have to fight me

For the rocks in my pockets each night,

And I'd have to fight you

To actually try and sleep, stop talking.

But we would be happy, I think.

Running around trying to peak on mermaids,

Fighting pirates, flying in the sky.

Never having to return home,

Bear any responsibility,

We would be just children, after all.

[reel-fear]

MIKE BLOCKED ME ON TWITTER FOR ROASTING HIS DUMBASS RESPONSE TO THE GRAPHIC NOVEL STUFF!!

grown ass man scared of the 19-year-old queer being mean to him over his public meltdown more at 8.

[neosappho]

i want a connection with you i want to dive headfirst with reckless abandon to hell with a slow burn to hell with what others might say i want to be fully enveloped in the ocean of uncertainty the sea of requited feelings everyday a new adventure every moment my prized treasure

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

does a spin

hi lark i warned you

i love josh so much,, so have yet anohter poem about him,,,,,,,,,,,, symbolism 👍👍

yeah im just making stuff up now (WHEN ADELE COMES HOME AFTER MEETING JANETTE FOR THE FIRST TIME, SHE BRINGS HIM FLOWERS. I DONT KNOW WHY, BUT IT JSUT FITS EVEN THO SHE WOULDNT APOLOGISE, EVER, EVEN IN A ROUNDABOUT WAY LIKE THIS SO?? IMAGINE A UNIVERSE WHERE ADELE FEELS SLIGHTLY BAD ABOUT IT??? BUT KEEPS CHEATING??? or like, she doesnt want him to find out so its like,, lovebombing??? dont fucking know, whatever, SHE JUST GIVES HIM FLOWERS ONE TIME. OKAY? THANK YOU.). like, flatout making stuff up lmao. barely any of this poem is canon but its okay, its character-accurate (in my mind)

im so fucking normal about josh i swear, i SWEARRRRRR

---

You came home early today. The smile on your face is stretched thin, but you press a bouquet of yellow flowers into my hands. “What for?” I ask you. You don’t reply.

I put the flowers into a vase, place them on the dining table. ‘They’re beautiful,’ I think. I try to ignore the feeling that they wilt every single time I look at them.

You tell me, “Take them down, It's been weeks.” I feel bad for them. for their wilting and falling petals.

I take them and press them in between the pages of a book, leave it up on a shelf. The vase goes in the sink. You don’t notice its absence.

You find the petals inside the book by their yellow. “Why did you keep them?” I explain, “I felt bad for them, they didn’t deserve to be thrown out.” You laugh and toss them in the trash.

I rescue as many of the petals as I can, when you’re not looking. They’re dry and falling apart by now, but I hold them together as best I can. I put them in the back of my phone case.

You never really see me in the first place, so you never learn about my small act of defiance. They’re still pretty to me, even in their brokenness. My mind never lingers on why you brought them in the first place; an apology for something that I never knew about.

(I’m pouring them out into your (her) grave before long, wishing that it were enough to cover the crisp blue flowers.)

LIME WHEN. LIMEEEEE I’M. I CAN’T OUGHHHH

NO BUT YOU’RE RIGHT SHE WOULD BUY HIM FLOWERS. Since she stayed over at Janette’s- she would return home early OH MY GOD!!! LIME YOU GET THEM LIKE NOBODY ELSE FRFR ALSO THE LAST PART. SHAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS AUDGDJFHKS

like. the timeline. her getting the flowers-and then him pressing them in a book and putting them in his phone casesrjehdjsgdofhfhd LIMEEEE

[dearduende]

the terror

of imminent danger

of possibly losing

something I’m not

yet sure I can claim

too beholden to fates

to moods and to dates

have the stars aligned

or are my anxious wounds

just triggered or are we safe

to hold each other and to heal

can I really let myself feel

or will you slip through

my fingers outstretched

to a hand pulling back

paces outmatched

am I even half a step

ahead of heartache

but in trying to dodge

any possibility of pain

maybe I am in fact

the one running away

[poemsofamundaneday]

The friend I miss won't come back, I'll cling to what's left.

Head on the crook of your shoulder,

eyes staring at the whiteboard,

mind far away,

thinking about us. Friendship present once

now a pretense of one.

Thinking about how much you have hurt me,

tears staining my pillow at night

and wondering if I have ever hurt you,

hoping you aren't crying at your house.

Two peads in a pod,

reaching for the same goal.

I rivarly of some sorts,

a competition in banality.

There is no joy in victory,

just emptiness in a fight lost.

What did the professor say just now?

Lift your head and focus on class,

You can't turn back time.

[broke-on-books]

Happy poetry month! In the spirit of the month, what's your favourite poem? I'm not an avid poetry reader but mine is We Only Want the Earth.

Ooooh I'll have to check that one out, I don't think I've read it!

Hmmm as for favorite poem, there's a few I throw out as my top poem with frequency, but here I've got to say The Bridge by C. Dale Young. I just adore its positivity and the way it isn't afraid to be in love with the small details of life. That's just a feeling I relate with so much in my life and the whole poem is SUCH a vibe. Think I called it my idea of the world's greatest love poem in an essay once (which is def A Claim which idk if I'd fully back up now but the vibes are there) because it isn't just a poem about being in love with someone, it's loving everything they do and everything around you and loving just the world as a whole and how you see it everyday. Its such a vibe fr

Just- THIS !!!! ^^^^^^

[thesamestarlight]

today was SUCH a good day even though i didn't do the thing i wanted to get done and i know it was because i CREATED!! i meant to just jot down an idea in a google doc but that accidentally turned into like four HOURS and almost 3000 words and i??? feel so good?? i've been lamenting a lot lately that i have all these fragments floating around in my head but i haven't been able to actually Make anything with them and then today i finally did in a way that i completely didn't anticipate and that came out of nowhere and it felt GREAT. and then i sang in the car and saw the sunlight in the trees and watching a funny show and lived laughed love the spirit of small joys saturday!! i love you guys!!!

[krash-8]

oh fuck oh shit oh fuck oh shit life really is beautiful little you was right oh fuck oh shit oh f

[cashmere-caveman]

Christian Wiman, Darkness Starts | S1E6, Bad Moon Rising | S2E8, All God‘s Children | Ian Strange, Suburban Intervention | S1E6, Bad Moon Rising | S1E3, Ghost Town | Christina Marie Brown, Ghost I