#poems about dads

[tempestmothstorm]

crazy how the sanshee plush is one of the few actual direct confirmations on what a non-act 2 Natsuki’s home life is like because of how cagey she is on literally everything. Like this isn’t anything surprising or something you wouldn’t be able to extrapolate from the games but unlike everything else we know about her the implications are right there on the tin.

They literally did the character bio trope where where all the likes are normal but the dislikes are about their very specific trauma it’s just so funny they did that on the plushie card

[petrichara]

It’s October and nine years have passed. I say it’s dark, it’s cold, it’s a season of grief. I don’t know what I’m missing, don’t know what it means. I can’t imagine a life with you here. You’re something I feel, not someone I know; the hum of the house and nobody’s home. I don’t mean to be cruel, I don’t want to forget you. And I don’t want to see you in the lawn decor.

Still, the weather gets cold and you’re a creak in the knee. I’m sorry you’re a talking point, sorry you’re a myth. I miss you and I missed you. It’s all in the mist.

[charzeewrites]

I hate my father, and I hate myself,

Because I am his daughter,

And therefore I am him.

[quaranmine]

i think the whole cringe is dead, radical sincerity, depth of genuine emotion, earnest effort, and unironic love thing that tumblr has going on the past few years has transformed my outlook on things and changed me for the better. but it does mean that now the people i know irl will give me strange looks for being too sappy or too poetic or too dedicated or too excited about about something because they're still stuck in their "well i only like this ironically" phase. guess that's their problem tho not mine <3

[trainingdummyrabbit]

parents are really fascinating creatures. theyll watch this thing they brung into existence Stop eating Stop cleaning Stop going outside Stop doing much of anything Without being able to explain and theyll go Hm. Clearly This Thing Is A Spoiled Brat.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Carter: As Oscar once said: "everything is about sex, except sex, sex is about power."

Wilde: I never said that!

Carter: Yes, you did!

Barnes: Well that sounds like something you would say.

Wilde: Last time you agreed with Carter that "You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear" was something I would say. Your opinion does not count.

Barnes: Wait, you didn't say that?

Carter: Nah. I did got that one wrong it was Campbell actually.

Zolf: *who was listening from the side room and entered invoked by Campbell's name* No it wasn't. Campbell isn't a hack.

Carter: Ohoho, Oscar, he called you a hack? Are you gonna let him?

Wilde: You see, he didn't! Because I never wrote that. I never spoke that. And I resent anyone thinking I did.

Barnes: Okay, so who said it?

Carter: I still think it was Oscar.

Wilde: *doing calming breathing exercises*

Barnes: Don't be like that Oscar, Carter is just being himself. In fact, didn't you once said "be yourself, everyone else is already taken"?

Zolf: *who knows that Wilde never said any of this things* *breaks laughing*

Carter: Yeah, it was right after "never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary".

Wilde: I hate all of you.

Zolf: Why? Wasn't you the one going "there is only one thing in life worse than being talked about" well we are talking about you.

Wilde: I never... wait... no...I actually did say that one.

[vampirewhohuntsvampires]

Slice Of Heaven [Title]

[nobecausecheese]

When kittens smell of cigarettes It tells you one of two things; Either he was on the table again Or he was kissed Very gently On his tiny little head By someone who smokes American Spirits

[lemonnbug]

A poem titled My Father Died Again Today where I describe every time someone gets rid of or changes something that was my dad's or reminded me of him

[ilonacho]

pompeii bastille fills me with such longing for days that are long gone

[pears-palette]

It can be easy to forget that love is just as easily violent as it is soft.

It’s intensity drives us to our knees, makes us howl and weep, turns our bodies into glass bottles trying to contain tsunamis.

Love makes us want to carve off parts of ourselves happily for the comfort of another.

It can bring equal parts ecstasy and agony and never have I felt more alive than when I am loving.

[8cfc00]

don’t know if this makes any sense but. i associate each of the s1 dad’s stories with different storytelling mediums. 

like, glenn’s story is very visual, a lot of visual subtleties and visual imagery/symbolism. (book of Xs) Meanwhile ron’s story is a lot more word-based, there are visual symbols, but i see them as a lot more abstract. (you are enough just as you are). Darryl’s would work best as a movie. it just has those vibes. and i think Henry’s story is good as a podcast? (the structure feels less conventional, and he has some great monologues)

[milkyspine]

[carolineishere]

for my dad:

as i grow up, so do the monsters under my bed

but they’ve never been scared of you and you won’t stop ‘till they’re dead.

talk me to sleep ‘bout the books you’ve read,

and keep me safe from memories from your youth inside your head.

without a word, you take your best parts and give them all to me,

and i’m sorry to wake you but i had a bad dream.

[release-the-sheep]

haunt, fangs

haunt: do you believe in haunted objects?

mmmmmmmno. no I don't think I do. but as we know I am a great nuance enjoyer, so never say never I guess

fangs: favorite poem?

just one? okay there is an answer I can give actually.

Today I saw a little worm

Wriggling on his belly.

Perhaps he'd like to come inside

And see what's on the Telly.

- Spike Milligan

[hersurvival]

Bloody knees and elbows,

Crawling through the dark under the watch

Of passing headlights.

We aren't supposed to be out here,

Not this late, not this far.

We fled the forest, dad, his wife, and I.

We need help to get the kids.

But his wife keeps grabbing my shoulder,

Poking her fingers into my ribs,

Tapping my back.

I sit up, cars driving fast around us,

To yell, tell her to quit.

You don't want to be my mother, don't touch me.

It's making me unbalanced and driving me crazy.