Vampire Thoughts

You’re going to be late, 

but you meticulously layer on your makeup,

while your coffee brews in the kitchenette.

I smell that you love creamer and sugar.

It both repulses me and delights me 

that you’ll taste so sweet later.

I can tell you stress about being late, 

which causes your blood to pump in that

cute little vein that is unfortunately 

in the middle of your forehead. 

I sense you think you’re an important business woman

as you seem comfortable in those 

impractical leopard pumps and form-fitting black dress.

Just enough adventurous and yet classy for my tastes,

but the way you frown in the mirror

and try to sculpt your stomach flatter 

makes me cringe at the new age body standards.

Truly, I much prefer your evening attire 

to your 5am business garments, because of how

relaxed your blood smells while you watch

Twilight or True Blood for the thousandth time,

which enrages me to the point that I might reconsider 

my dinner choices. But then you put on that 

ingeniously flattering plaid pajama shorts and 

tank top duo so I just can’t refuse.

It’s sweet that you think I’ll have sparkly skin and that

you’ll get high on my blood while 

I save you repeatedly from your own troubles

and then use you as a personal blood bag. 

Just wait until we accidentally run into each other

when I move into your building tomorrow evening.

I’ll butter you up and show you my world, 

just like you always wanted. 

I’ll be the vampire of your dreams.

You’ll love me enough to make your blood boil at my touch,

making you the perfect meal I’ve been waiting for.