Night Lover~ by Louise Hastings
vampiric lust, life essence lost.
To see his eye colour change my colour;
dusk darkened, vitality sucked.
So pale his cheek, paper cool his touch.
His shadow deep
crueller than winter’s frost.
Blood of the living feeds my lover –
my sadistic brother,
my him and me.
©Louise Hastings 2011
Someone told me that I should write it all down, get all that turmoil out of my head. And it worked, even better than therapy did. In the process, I discovered a joy with wordplay and poetry, and now I couldn’t stop even if I’d wanted to.