Insidious puppets, dancing on strings,
acting out my favorite things.

Rolling lips.
Flashing eyes.
Blazing red.
Petrified.

Stiletto heels.
Stake in hand.
The huntress waits inside.
Shadow blanket.
Cool and damp.

Lover rigid.
Tranquilised.
Palm pressed hard.
Upon forehead.
Body sustenance all gone.
Dead.

Huntress's stake.
Life did take.
She must.
Vampire.
Undead.
Pile of dust.

Goodbye my love.
(c)LIVVI

don't feel bad.  
you're not the
only one i have
pushed away.

you're one of
the billions of
people that i
have pushed
away.

i don't want
someone to
stay and find
out that they
don't like me
at the end of
the day.

so don't feel
bad.

i don't let
anyone in
after what
happened
after i had
trusted
somebody
with my
heart.

i lost it.  

and him.

Hidden gestures are like a dagger,
concealed beneath the cloak during a dueling feud,
the end result might not be apparent,
however, the revelation of its polished steel,
makes it emphatic.

Rickety old bones,
carrying my frame,
dragging my corpse,
around in the rain,
flickering candles
dance in the dark,
where ghostly whispers
alive you do hark,
through the shadows,
where people do sleep,
pray to your god,
your soul shall he keep.