Reading Poetry

I seem to be wondering about when I'll get my fill.
I've been sucking this animal so long I fear that I
will drain its sweet, permissive blood and beg the veins to dry.
(My baby doesn't know me, and I know he never will.)

And I'm the one with crimson lips and dribble on my chin,
and I'm the one surviving on this pretty creature's blood.
A vampire such as I could be sorely misunderstood.
Perhaps I'll move my lovely lips and stab it with a pin.

Poor little love lamb, off with its head.
Distrust has rendered my love lamb dead.

Oh, oh, oh... what's worse pain?
Sucking at the wound, and what to gain?
Oh, oh God... what a waste.
I'd kill the damn thing for a little taste.

For my next trick, I shall make you all disappear.

Ohmigod you're back!

How's life?

Consider yourself hugged.

Wow! Yeah, welcome back!

...the poem's not bad either. Just overshadowed by your sudden return. ;)

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