by Heather Bryan (22 Dec 95)

Is it elementary;
to think in final thoughts...
In knowing all the details,
...such common ground is sought.
And that is the belief.
That common is good
and distant is the domain
to steer clear of in mood.

But depression is too easy to sink into.
What with the pain and all....
So aluring.
To wallow in your own thoughts,
When you cannot wallow in anothers.
So comforting.
Knowing the expression of a tear
can sooth the beast of rage
and put your body to sleep.
...And sleep can be so precous a comodity,
When that finality keeps the insomnia
from just going away.

What have I found in this escape?
An outlet sublime!
Confessional mine!
...And here is your way of judgement.
Here is your only clue...
To my inexplicable madness;
This bloody gift misconstrued.
...And so you shall recieve it like this:
Each plot, each memorial.
Each emotional spill,
In wrenching editorial.
Visit with my self destructive will;
To survive what I need not try.
To engage what I need not find.
Be my little wooden box.
Open the slide door and listen...
Never to look upon my face.
Never to know this perditor's eyes.
...But always aware of this ecstacy's taste;
This constant thirst of this Vampyre.