I wrote this poem when I was 15 years old and writing was my biggest escape. I would write random poems and short stories in class, scribbled in the back of notebooks or on notes to friends.
I also, quite obviously, had a vampire obsession (...still do.)
A Bacchanalian ritual,
a harvest of the dead,
a lonely pale face stares,
a child playing alone...
hopscotch....arms reaching...grabbing....
The taste of blood against her lips,
a fire in her eyes....
stealing the innocent sunlight,
a whispering "everything must die"
the death and rebirth.
The reborn one smirks, an evil one...
a hunger grows and grows...
walking the cold nights,
stalking the pure of heart...together....
the innocence lost...
an evil gained...
Demonic dreams that haunt the young,
a reality...broken...
a careless mistake,
a slayers wrath,
the unbeating heart... broken...
Loneliness once again.
A lonely pale face stares... into the distance....
the eyes catch a child,
alone, afraid, in search of a companion...
About the Creator
Josey Pickering
Autistic, non-binary, queer horror nerd with a lot to say.
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