Skyrim
 
I’ve spent summers in worlds that don’t exist,
trekked through tundra,
scaled mountains in minutes,
and slept on ocean floors.
I’ve delighted at absurdities,
seen cliffs turn translucent;
glitched into gauze.
I’ve watched light spill on grass like rain,
stared directly at the sun.
 
I’ve lived more than one life,
worn countless bodies,
sold my soul to demons, pledged it to every god.
I’ve had scales, scars,
breathed as human, elf, and animal;
I’ve been beautiful.
I’ve stored jewels in Riften’s sewers,
stalked emperors in Solitude,
set house in shipwrecks
as a vampire collecting butterfly wings.
 
With finals, and a heart
fluttering faster than mosquito wings,
I gazed out at England’s grey wash,
playing Skyrim’s soundtrack.
I cried to Frostfall, reminiscing about snow
shimmering amethyst under aurora,
pining for landscapes I’d never been to.
 
Note: Skyrim is one of the most iconic video games ever created, having sold over 30million copies since its release.
​

Could I go back, please?
Before possessed tongues
Sung branches to their fall?

Before matches were lit,
And I watched the crestfallen
Moon turn its back on me,
And leave my skies starless.

Before I knew I could hurt,
Before I wanted to.
I once saw pain undressed,
And I wanted her.