December 22nd, Year of Vampires

I was born a convulsing beast. I know that now, and am stripped of shame for a thing I could not help. Somewhere in the untamed wilderness, is a home that calls for me. Everywhere else, I feel out of place. There isn’t a moment in which I am not aware that I do not belong. What holds me here, what holds me down?

I breathe and rise, wanting more of what has kept me firm against a savage inquisition. His voice is lost, which can only be seen as an opportunity to question how much I want its return, his return. I think, do not follow me, unless you plan to take me whole. I cannot be left to continue a life in pieces, when fascination for another takes hold of you. Then I think, I cannot afford this at all. As it is, I writhe like a woman possessed. I scream to purge all emotion that is not welcome. Affection is not a gift, it is a piercing curse. I more than politely reject it, I loudly exterminate it. I am a feral cat, willing to sign a pact with any dark entity that can promise I will never weaken again. Somewhere through December’s fresh rain, there is safety. Always in the well-imagined distance.

December 22nd, Year of Vampires

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