Little Fires

[littlefiresartistry]

Whiplash

You like to play games,

I call your favourite ‘Whiplash’,

Main menu, press start.

Player one loaded,

Ready Player two.

You like to play games.

 You like to play games,

Puzzle solvers, if you will.

You lay down the course, the obstacles, the traps,

But where’s the endgame?

The “Congratulations, you won!”?

I can’t find it.

You like to play games.

 You like to play games,

Of hot and cold, of yes or no.

Whiplash starts with a question,

When the answer is yes, you always tell me no.

When the answer is hot, you urge me to say cold.

You like to play games.

  You like to play games,

“Escape the room”, the mission reads - simple enough.

Except, there’s no door, no window,

No lock to pick or hatch to find.

And eventually, when I resign myself, you say,

“The door has been open the entire time.”

You like to play games.

  You like to play games,

Spinning webs with your words for me to untangle,

But your silk is barbed, and I always end up cut.

You watch as I weave between the threads, open and raw,

You continue to spin.

You like to play games.

  You like to play games,

Endless runners for miles,

Whiplash is your worst,

Whispering “keep running, don’t stop, you’re almost there,”

But eventually, when I stumble, and I read GAME OVER there’s always fine print:

“You ran too far.”

You like to play games.

  You like to play games.

And, I guess, so do I,

Because I just can’t quit playing.

I call your favourite ‘Whiplash’,

They call it,

  Abuse.

 You like to play games,

I call your favourite ‘Whiplash’,

Main menu, press start.

Player one loaded,

Ready Player two?