Vampires

 

Vampires are real. No really,

hear me out be in no doubt

they live amongst us right now,

only it’s all a bit different

from the Hollywood portrayal.

It’s not the same as the mythological

tales told, or how the fables of old

once taught us those stories of the beast

that would bleed you dry in the dead of night,

until you were dead and cold,

whilst they disappeared out of sight

into the darkness that lays out before daylight.

 

So let us delve into the darkness.

You may wish to pack some garlic,

a few crosses and maybe a sharpened

baseball bat. For where we are heading

there's no turning back,

at least not until the sun climbs into the sky.

 

They live in mansions,

castles, ornate palaces.

They own land. Lots of land.

Private islands with their own runways

painted into the sand and they rule

these lands like dictators.

 

They keep their transactions

strictly hidden from the public assessors.

They creep around in the shadows,

they speak in riddles, they deceive,

they hurt, they kill and they take innocence,

forcing it to its knees.

 

They like to suck the life from the young.

They act aristocratic, they are not like you and me

They only want to feed,

to suck the life from innocent dreams

so that they can live eternally.

They are fearful of hope or belief.

They hide away from being exposed,

to the sunlight at least.

They sink their teeth into any smaller life

and they won’t let go, taking innocence

and leaving only bite marks.

 

They can’t reflect on themselves,

or see any flaws, they can’t use a mirror

to see the hate surging through their pores.

They want power over humanity,

they want to consume our sanity

through their acts of depravity.

They just want more and more,

always more, whether that be

money power, war

or just to be protected

by their own brand of law.

They seduce the easily led,

with promise of fame and fortune,

all you need is to feed and the best meat

is always served bloody red.

 

So, keep the garlic close at hand,

keep your wits when walking these lands

and most importantly.

Never accept their invitation

to their private island,

and never invite them in to your santuary. 

Stay in the light

it is safest there.

They only look for the ones

that are lost and scared.

Orchards

 

I've always waited for it to all make sense.

The pain endured when I didn’t know how

to hold my stance or glide through life,

and it felt more like I was free falling

from an infinite sky.

And I dream of walking in orchards of gold

with the sun by my side,

just showing me answers on how to survive

when it feels easier to take a swan dive.

 

But you.

You make

all of this go away.

You take me and put the pieces back in place.

The smile on your face erases

so many bad memories.

The love in your hands

holds me in a state of ease.

And I feel peace for just a moment,

feels like eternity.

Thank you for watching over me.

 

I remember being so far behind

I'd lag at simple tasks

and flag when I was down,

I was a paper bag in the wind,

spinning out in a dream,

when it seemed reality was lost.

and my only hope was to blend in

with the empty surroundings.

I'd walk in those orange groves,

the lemon orchards

and the peaceful meadows

that my mind chose to grow,

for I couldn't get my legs to go,

or my mouth to say a word,

I'd just let the beatings emerge

from the outside, cocooned within

this dreamworld I had built for myself.

 

I always slouched, 

my back arched down,

I made myself smaller somehow.

Crawled into myself,

a hedgehog in a ball.

A rabbit in the headlights.

A nothing. A nobody at all.

Just an outsider

not invited to the ball,

but I danced in

those apple orchards,

I swam in the lakes that I found.

I explored every corner

of my own private island

and I found...

I found you looking in

and I waved back at you,

why was I so teary?

You asked me quietly,

Why was I so lonely

when I have this whole world at my feet?

And then you disappeared into the dream,

but I still see your face everyday

when I look in the mirror

and you smile and say hi.

Sharpened words

 

You sharpen your words

until they are razor blade thin,

and then

you start cutting.

I feel every strike

deep in my skin.

I’m bleeding.

I’m weakening.

I’m feeling like fleeing,

but where would I run

in this room without a door,

this hole into which

I've crawled.

So, I take it.

Every spit curse that cuts into bits

my sense of self-worth.

 

Your words are like acid,

burning over every exposed nerve.

Bubbling the surface until it forms a crust.

I’m trying to swerve the worst

but all I can do is corner myself,

so that you can fling more abuse.

I feel like running,

but where would these feet flee

when all I have

is in this room around me.

Where can I find some peace?

Is it easy for others to see?

Or do I have no hope

and I’m just catching on?

 

Your words are like rope

trying to hang me, but I cling on,

I’m not ready to be a pinata for anyone.

So, you can swing,

you'll miss

For I exist

in the aether and the mist.

I’m words on the breeze,

I’m not just the figure that bleeds

I’m an idea that seeds the earth.

I’m a thought that continues to feed.

I’m hope and I believe in me.

So, keep swinging until you get dizzy

for your words can never make me

accept the pain you see fit to inflict upon me,

just trying to get me to follow your lead,

to provoke an anger

that doesn’t sit within me.

I’ll walk the path that needs me

not the one that only wants to deceive.