maybe i'm not a vampire

stale air fills my lungs
as i watch out my dirty window for signs of apparitions.
the corner of my bloodshot eye is easily fooled
by the erratic movements of trash in the moonlight
instigated in such a cruel way by the wind.
a storm is forming somewhere, too far away.
people are arguing next door;
i argue with myself too sometimes.
i’ve been thinking a lot lately
and it's made me hungry.
i still vaguely remember the times
friends tried to feed me and i ran
because the only food i can digest
are my fears.
 
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