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Often the stereotype behind vampires is that they are cold, heartless monsters left to feast on the fearful, but I have found a new feast;
The way his love makes me feel full, and content with this life, in a way that forever no longer feels so long.
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I never wanted to live my life alone.
I was a social recluse, and he was the life of the party- all eyes on him, commanding respect,
And I was not.
Yet he still has his eyes on me, and when they are I feel as if I've got company for the rest of eternity.
Concept: You are worn out, it’s been a long day and you come back to bed, I am reading some boring russian classic to pass the time, your head falls on my chest and I find myself absentmindedly running my hands through your hair. I can feel your heartbeat pounding against your chest, and you sprawl yourself over me. Suddenly there are better things to focus on than the philosophy of nihilism, and I play music from the record player as you fall asleep, covering the two of us in blankets, taking in the warmth of your presence and planting a kiss on your lips. The night falls thick and dark and the moonlight shines through cracks of our star-themed curtains. We are a mess of entangled limbs, wrapped up with each other bracing against the cold of the night.
A creature without a pulse is naturally cold, avoidant of sunlight, and aiming to keep itself warm.
I guess that explains why I am so drawn to your embrace, why I can never let go of your hands, and why I would rather lounge in bed with classical poetry, enthralled in the sound of your heart beating.
There’s something soft about loving him- to others he’s a beast, all fur and bared canines and anger, but to me he falls docile, and rather than taming him, the wolf tames me.
I am all the angst of the victorians, I am bloody and fanged and poised in my pious immortality, yet I let him collar me, take my hands in his, and I fall on my knees to him;
vampires are never one to find religion, but being with him feels holy and pure.
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I want to be held in his arms and told it's okay, under the pale moonlight, life seems so dim and dismal, but then I feel his arms around me and once again I am whole.
There’s nothing so pure as to find a boy as beastly as you are, who sees you as poetry rather than danger.
I have always found Poe cliche, and how stereotypes ring untrue, forever means little with immortality, but he is like the raven; and I’d love to spend forever more with you.
