Apr 20, 2013

National Poetry Month: day 20/poem 20

I wrote this next poem in high school during my Anne Rice obsessed years well before vampires were sparkly. A variation of it was published in The Outer Fringe, I think.

Blood of the Vampire

I feel my cold dead blood ache from starvation.
I see the crucifix hanging on the wall.
I can feel my arms stretched beyond their limits;
my wrists nailed down tight, my puppet strings cut, but
I’m still not free.  I try to kick, but these nails
through my feet don’t allow me.  My back aches from
the burden and hard, damp wood rubbing splinters
into my skin.  My skin white from the draining
of my blood.  Burgundy pools forming on the
shadow cross on the ground; wind blowing specks of
dirt in the blood, in my face, in my eyes.  Tears
formed to fight the infection roll down my cheeks,
leaving sticky, itching tracks that I can’t scratch.
I scream out of annoyance, frustration, but
I can’t scream. The wind has dried my throat; my lips
crack and bleed.  I feel my life flowing from my
open wounds, open veins.  I’m drowning in these
waves of death, trying to stay afloat, but find
it’s so much easier to sink.  In my haze
I see an ax; hear a chopping crack whack of
wood splitting, breaking.  I’m falling.  My eyes close
before I fall, I feel nothing; I awake
from a dream of drinking blood, rise and hit my
head on the board above.  A coffin; am I
dead?  My neck aches.  I am thirsty.  I am weak.
I move the cover, let candle light shine in,
reflect on my smooth, white skin, but I don’t feel
like myself anymore.  I know I’ll never
be the same.  Everything’s changed.  I feel hatred,
bitter love.  I am not dreaming anymore.
*     *      *
I know I know I know I know I know
I hear their words echoing in my head;
if I just hang on I’ll be myself soon.
I’ll be happy again if I just try.
I’ll have my own place, I’ll have my own life.
I know I know I know I know I know
But I don’t want to hear their words, no words.
I cover my ears, close my eyes, my mind,
my mouth.  Feel my eyeteeth puncture my lip;
Scream, “I don’t want this fearing mortal life!”
Life to end
End my pain
Pain for sale
Make me immortal
My soul eternal
No morality
Life with no meaning
Meaning with no time
Time for change I need
All I need
All I want
All I dare
is to ask for a never-ending gift,
is to walk this sacred Earth forever,
is to travel the naked Universe,
is to learn infinity’s true essence.
I want to witness the termination
of time, experience life beyond all
limits and obstacles of death, because
there are just so many things, so much stuff
I care about that I don’t want to lose,
that I don’t want lost in an uncaring
mortal time.
I can’t let go,
I can’t close my eyes.
Tears of pain
tearing my face.
All colors blend to
Surrender to the fear.
In the dark twisted forest layered in fog
I see myself, but when I look into the
mirror, I see nothing.  Burn my wick until
I melt away; I can’t give it all away.
Fade into the closed night, mingle with the stars,
marry the moon, but I can’t let go of it.
Rip the precious child from the mother’s arms then
hear her scream.  Now listen to my heart crying.
I can’t sleep tonight.  So alone, I feel like
a pool of water in the Arabian
for no one to feed, no one to nourish, bleed.
The evil sun may explode, the sister moon
may crash to the Earth, but no I can’t let go.
The last unicorn, last of the Mohicans,
the last whale, last tree; I can never let go.
I can’t celebrate what I have without what
I want because I know I will find what I’m
looking for not through the sun drenched path but through
all the milky shadows of a blood stained night.
I hear them call for me; they can’t let go, but
I wont look back, can never go back, never.
I feel the essence of my being ripped, torn
into two distinct sides of opposition,
but my desire follows the fear until
it is gone and you arrive to say good-bye.
Don’t you even dare leave through my broken door
until you pick my pieces up from the floor.
I can’t sleep; I don’t care what happened before
and I can not even go home anymore.
So please sing to me now,
sing to me;
sing me my life.
Give me words like breath,
rhythm of
beat of truth, not true.
Sing my soul,
sing me my self,
for I have no tune.
Sing to me;
I can not bear
this unlit silence.
I need you,
I need your voice.
Sing to me, kiss me.
Give me the kiss of death
then wake me with your blood

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