by Sheryl Hanna (7 Jan 96)
You my dark angel have given me this dark gift,
For you have saved me from a mortal death,
My innocent, untainted blood surged through your veins,
More succulent than life itself,
You gave me immortality.
The spirit of a young woman cries out to be free,
From the body of a child that's me,
Yearning, burning for physical maturity
But it shall never come,
It's forever that I shall be the age of eight,
Never experiencing puberty,
Never experiencing my first date or the rapture of a young man in my adolescent arms,
All of these things have evaded me.
A dirty trick nature has played upon me!
Yet you my dearest vampire, father,
Mock me your daughter,
For the breast that I shall never have,
For the curvaceous hips that I shall never have,
For the adult body that I shall never possess.
How I despise you for all of this,
How could it be?
You think me mad?
I think not!
Now I shall set your soul free,
It's forever more that you shall sleep sweet prince,
For it's your total destruction that I now seek!