The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Pushing Past the Quiet Alone
14:14 Jan 31 2011
Times Read: 595

This Stupid Question
05:45 Jan 31 2011
Times Read: 603

I don't want to ask, but it's tripping on my tongue. I know the burning question is going to spill out of my mouth despite my steeled determination to keep it to myself. I have to ask, because I'm beyond not asking. And I know that you will not treat it lightly nor try to make me feel worse than you know I already do. But it never ceases to make me feel the way that it does, and I never cease to wonder at you. After all of these years you faithfully try to help me, and after all these years, I try to faithfully spare you. We both know what I need is more than you alone can give, and we both know that it will never be easy for either of us. I could not love you more for what you have given, for what you give, and for what you allow me. I know that if you could, you would take that question from my lips forever. And I know that if I could, I would never ask you again.

Bad Bandages
02:31 Jan 31 2011
Times Read: 608

There's almost a place for it.

Tucked away beneath midnight glances,

it's ALMOST safe.

I'd cradle it in nuances and subtleties,

but that's just not me.

The vagueness is a smoke screen,

a not so clever subterfuge.

It's not intended for intention,

just there to buy time..



..to heal the wounds.



-Lacy Lashes

Moth Meet Flame
07:38 Jan 22 2011
Times Read: 676

Crept up like shadow long, fading closer drew, fading day melting into pool, of night. Rippled, eluded, breaking surface, she evaded. Transformative form her vehicle as she flits, conquering glamour, incites curiousity, woos possibility. Until contact,intensity. Speaks nothing, impossible to pin perfume, exotically familiar. Quickly yours, yet, embracing: water, smoke? Moth meet Flame. Not long pondering though; Flame embraces you. Heat. Striking intensity,leaves you cold, alone basking over brilliant instance, only one ever to have. Near distance whispering her, "Stay".. Smiling, finger to lips, eyes bright above vibrant form below, "No." Remarkably alone, Moth searching shadows for a home.

My Winter Affair
04:43 Jan 21 2011
Times Read: 700

I step outside, the shock of the air filling me first, almost a forcible entry. In the beginning it shakes me to the core, and I am violated, but moments later..exhilerated..I know why I am here. ..the world dims and brightens by moonlight, much like a flashlight low on batteries would do, obscured by cloud and then free again..to expose me to the frozen stillness.. ..no other eye is braving Winter, but I've been waiting for my love all year.. ..the ground sparkles intermittent of the lunar's occasional freedom..a hard crust that but an ounce of pressure is destroyed instantly.. ..how could I miss THAT? Satisfying crunches underfoot, I revel in the Winter's all consuming kiss as the wind explores my flesh..I want more, more, more.. But it is the more that drives me indoors as I feel myself curl inwardly slowly for warmth.. ..reluctant I part ways with the gifts my love have brought me, the shimmering treasure trove beneath my feet.. Winter's touch deep in my being and seeping through my soul.. ..once inside my "shelter from the storm"..I remain chilled..Winter's embrace shaking my very core.. Until next year, mi amor.. -Lacy Lashes

Garden of Compassion
15:28 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 697

There is nothing left to cry for. Nothing is sad. The pain, the suffering, the lonely torment? Oh, they are still there. But they have place and purpose. I do not cry for them. They are happy in their pursuits. There is nothing left to laugh over. Nothing is funny. The humorous events of the day? Oh, they remain. Jovial jaunting prevails still! Careless, a stain on the serious. My spirits cannot be raised when they have been so silenced. There is nothing left to destroy or create. This, the last of these hands' inspiration, speaking merely cold truth shall bear the only witness of a fading Today. There is no bright Tomorrow to come. Once I knew perfect bliss, but you drew me to you with your: pain, suffering, and lonely torment. Blooming the flower Compassion.. You beguiled me with your jovial jaunting and empassioned me with your hot inspiration. I wanted nothing more than you and cast away Bliss like a discarded tissue. But I am ever changed by the flower bloomed in the garden I never tilled. It will not die, even with poison. It seems unlike me, Compassion cannot be killed. This flower has thorns that wrap about you. It will not be stilled until it is satisfied. The clamor in my mind is more than I can bear. Shhh Compassion, or you would be the death of me! Where is your pity now? I would that I were a desert in which nothing grew than to let myself be so inhabited by you! Let me be cold, let me be hard and smooth as glass. For Compassion, you have forsaken me. Where you bloom Disappointment also lays roots. Where you prosper, Betrayal puts in beds. In the Garden of Compassion I was ravaged such as flesh has never known. And in the blood of my spirit, the seeds of Apathy were sown.

Love/Hate Relationship With NonExistence
10:30 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 748

There is no middle of the night. It goes on relentlessly until there is a day.



And the same thing happens with the day, it goes on unendingly until suddenly it is night.



I've been told there are these "special" moments inbetwixt, "twilight" and "dusk"...HA! There are but various degrees of the other!



There is no end to it, no break in the cycle.



I suppose it's a love/hate relationship betwixt it and I, that there is no place inbetween.



On one hand, it would be awfully boring..what with the nonexistence and all..



And on the other hand, I wouldn't mind at all, couldn't even be bored..could I?



Yes, assuredly love/hate. But I suppose all relationships start somewhere don't they?



-Lacy Lashes

Graced With Choice
10:17 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 699

The thief of my sleep sits in a quiet corner of the room and vanishes each time I catch it with the corner of my eye. My Will alone will not hold it nigh, so I fill the tick tick ticking hours with text and text returned on a glowing technological friend. The thief of my sleep crawls under my skin, pervades me within and without and tears at me with images: sights, and smells, even sounds, that shall not come to pass. I thirst and I hunger, and I know it can last..much, much longer. So I drink and I eat and I pretend at merriment; until all have closed their eyes to the day, and even the night. I watch for the pale grey lighting of dawn..aware that I am likely to see the next without a moment's reprieve in the Land of Nod. And in all the time between, I shall silently scream within for that which is so very close, yet so very very far away. Lying in the next room, breath slowly rising and falling, calling out to me without a voice.. ..I am thankful I am graced with choice.

I Give It No Name
05:57 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 704






I tried to be a Voice, but I faltered; Silence only came. I felt it was unfair and managed some Sound, but it didn't stick around. I don't know where that stuff goes when it disappears like that, but I'm positive it's "lying around."







I attempted some Sight, sadly what I saw hadn't happened yet, and I forgot to look where I was going. The only Sight I would have coming slowly; as I was busy "flooring."







I succeeded with Touch, that's how I "woke up." But touching? You see, it's never enough.







Scent arises unbidden, beholden to Taste. Garnering all together, prepared to make waste..they collide.







Nameless and Timeless, the din of the Still. Far far beyond flesh, as innate as Will..no Voice and no Vision, yet there is the way.







It is what it is. I give it no Name.

My Small Self
05:51 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 705

I am not beautiful. Beauty is subjective and personal, and relative in that way only.

I am not ugly, for all the same reasons.

I am not good. Good is absolute and unflawed, unwavering and certain..as is evil.

I am none of those things, I cannot exist in a world full of absolutes.

And I'm pretty certain I wouldn't want to anyway.

But what am I then? That is the question I ask myself.



I am neither beautiful, nor ugly. I am neither good or evil.

If I cannot describe myself in these ways, what worth or value do I have?

If I cannot be pleasant to the eye, or even hideous..if I cannot reek of purity or ill intent..what is my purpose?

That is the voice of my small self, the one that still thinks only with words that others use.

It is my small self that tries to alter me, and I know it's secret plans.

If it cannot find purpose in the eyes of others, it will seek to undo me.

But I do not intend to let it.



I am not small after all, I am infinite, I am vast, even if I am miniscule.

When you cannot see me, or judge my character through physical means..I am but me.

That is more than enough.

I am not holy or unholy, but I can choose to act as one or another, never as an absolute.

I throw myself willingly into chaos..where my decisions are made.

And sometimes they may be flawed, but I detest perfection.

(Any sane person would be disgusted with the prospect of such nothingness anyhow.)



I am me, because that is exactly what is needed.

I don't need another explanation.

Every wrong and every right is necessary, although not necessarily certain.

I have every choice, although I may not need to choose.

One day I will cast away my small self completely and live free.

One day I will remember even better that while I am not the all, I am the something.



And that, that is far better than the "perfection" of nothing

We Hold One Another In Thrall
05:46 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 708

When something gets into your blood it stays there, fills your being with it's little reminders you can't scrape them aside or dig them out it's a part of you now even if it smells even if it disgusts every ounce of your being, you own it now and it won't leave you it can't escape and you can't cast it aside trapped within one another only one of you bearing form the one that is hitherto stripped of it's own being now to subsist as a portion of another may balk at the idea of absorption, but eventually it also fades into a quiet voice much like the snake, the spider and others send their victims to such a vicious, savage sleep so does the cycle continue on out to include us all in some manner, with some purpose we hold one another in thrall an get under each other's skin eventually running through our blood, staying there, filling our beings with little reminders, we can't scrape you aside or dig you out, you are part of us now, even if you smell, even if you disgust us, entered in to every ounce of our being, belonging to us now, unable to escape and we can't cast you aside, stripped of your own being, subsisting as a portion of us, balking at the idea, until you eventually fade into a quiet voice, and we are like the snake, the spider, and others, sending you to a vicious, savage sleep so that the cycle will continue on to include us all in some manner with some purpose we hold one another in thrall

Why I Left
05:41 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 710

Dry, everything is so dry, my skin is paper, my hair makes that scratching sound against itself that drives me mad.

The air is dry, my clothes tear at me with every move I make.

My lips are made of brillo and my throat lined with sand.

Even my thoughts are dry, torn of feeling, excepting the dryness that pervades everything.

Even the sunlight pouring in small rays from the corners of the drapes adds to the dryness, so I stumble to the kitchen and pour the cool, clear, crystal water into the glass and greedily gulp it down..for an instance of relief.

Glass after glass until I allow myself to realize there is no use.

The disillusion broken, I would cry if I thought there were tears in me, but there can't be, not in the desert that is Me.

I take a shower, convinced that the water will assuade the onslaught of my pseudo dehydrated Self, but I am once again foiled by the not so subtle nuances of reality.



No amount of liquid is going to make this fade away.



And I should be used to this, I've been through it so many times, day after day, everytime he is gone this long.

But I'm never used to it, everytime is as awful as the first, and sometimes worse..because my frustration merely grows over time.

Added now is the illness, and everything is more pronounced..what was once just maddening (as if that wasn't enough,) is now killing me.

And the irony is, all the times I can recall in the past that I have thought, "If only I could just die so that this would stop."

I'd laugh, but my throat is so tight I can't swallow. I don't want to wallow in my misery, but I can't escape it because it follows faithfully literally every movement that I make.

And without thought I don my coat and gloves and tie the laces of my shoes tight, grab my keys and slide out the door.

In silence, and without conscious thought, I turn the key to lock it. Everything is so automatic that when I recall it now it's frightening.

I walk down the street, and although I haven't lived here a time of any consequence, I take each step as though I'd walked down this street a thousand times.

Aware now only of the noise the icy air makes as it assaults my lungs in yet another wave of dryness, I move along mindlessly into something, something I cannot place..but it begins to reach me..cool and soothing, the feeling rather akin to that glass of water that betrayed me so earlier spreading throughout me slowly.

The farther I go, the more the dryness about my eyes begins to fade. Soon I no longer notice the feel of my clothes as they grate against me; I can feel the softness of the fabric again.

Before I know it, my lips are less like brillo to me and more like lips, and I begin to relish breathing, as each gulp of air is filled to the brim with soothing moisture I could not before find.

And then it happens, I reach the threshold of where I can safely go, I realize that time has gone by and I must return to my responsibilities, and I wonder why I even left.



But I think I'm beginning to know.

I Am Dragon
05:34 Jan 18 2011
Times Read: 711








I am the dragon.

I am never weak and I devour Fear.

My breath of fire is the spark of Life, and it is strong within me.

I am the dragon.

I am ancient but each moment I am born again, filled with those I have gathered.

Each addition my precious treasure,my sparkling, unique gem.

I am the dragon, I give no quarter and I expect none.

Challenge me and be destroyed!

But know that I welcome such challenges,idle exercise.

I am hungry for the entertainment.

Flee if you must, for I shall possess you.

Unless of course, you possess yourself..for another dragon I shall not harm, lest my treasure they seek for their own.

Then greatly in battle my strength be shown, in earnest glee I shall tear out their essence and dine on their flesh.

I am dragon, and I feast on the weak and the fearful.

I am dragon, I defend that which is mine assured of victory.

I am dragon, I am never weak and I devour Fear.

My breath of fire is the spark of Life,and it is strong within me.

I am dragon, I am ancient, but each moment I am born again,filled with those I have gathered.

Each addition my precious treasure,my sparkling unique gem....