Blood Lips

October 28, 2010
By , north andover, MA
Her lips were undeniably seductive. They weren't the shade of that faded red tie stain that needs to be forgotten. Nor the glamorously bright red nail polish on a Holly wood star that demands attention. They were blood red. And from time to time again, I would confuse my love of her lips with my desire for her blood.

While in a passionate kiss, I would have the urge to bit her lips. She loved me. She would have given her life up for me. I decided that if I just bit in the corner of her lips, the place where no one would ever notice to look at, then it would be ok. So I bit. And I sucked. Her sugary blood only fueled my erupting thirst. So I bit and suck. And again. And again. Soon I lost track of how many times I had done it. Her once beautiful lips never had the chance to recover. Soon it had more depressions than the surface of the moon. She began to withered and I was losing my sanity bit by bit. The sight of her pained me. Then I somehow ended up here. Where is here? Huhuh huh. It's a place where only I can enter. And never leave.





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VampireX said...
Nov. 11, 2010 at 7:50 am
not bad at all.
 
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