Bloodlust
She stalks me in the darkness,
hungry, scenting blood,
driven on by madness
for a salty scarlet drug.
‘Just a taste’ she whines
‘a little, love bite, kiss
Just a tiny drop,
one you’ll never miss.’
Asleep, I never feel
the vampyric villain feed,
never feel her drool
as the wound begins to bleed.
Sated now she rises
the selfish, whining bitch.
Tomorrow I’ll remember this
when I start itch.
#185
Tis Skeeter Season. Garlic and Deet, can’t be beat.