to make an undead heart beat


It was not like twilight.


She did not sparkle, like the movies said. In all honesty,
It was the human who sparkled-
She smelt of coconut oil and stars and fresh bread,
and her hair was woven with so much sunlight that the vampire should have burned.


Maybe she did, a little, the first time they touched.
Her undead heart was barely beating in her sleeve-
It was in her hand, the human’s hand, trickling into
The bloodstream of the girl with the golden hair.



The vampire had always thought she would never breathe again, let alone
But there was so much light filling the corners of her bones
colour slipping into a pale face and blue filtering under long, thick lashes,
That she wasn’t just surviving, as she had done as a girl.
"I am no longer one hundred years old," she'd whisper
"I am watching the hands of clock dance back together."
This was life, pumped into her system through kisses and embraces
And late night dates sipping at coffee that didn’t burn her mouth anymore.



What burnt were the kisses, which had never happened when she was alive.
Perhaps, it was like the human’s sun hair, but the human’s lips were red roses,
Ever so enticing but full of prickly thorns.
The vampire could have made a necklace from the beads of blood the roses grew-
But then she may have begun to crave a garden, and the human was too beautiful,
Too alive to be rid of a vital primary colour. 



The only witness of their love were the stars, but that was enough.
you’re a beautiful monster,” was the only whisper the vampire needed
you can’t deny the dark side of the moon, but you can explore it
instead of waiting for the sun to rise.



but where time had stopped for one,
leaving her lungs frozen in place like a cement balloon
and the tears behind her eyes glaciers,
the world didn't have the arms to hold the human forever.
The human’s hair was an ashen sun, an eclipse, now, splayed out over a pillow
-But it still smelt of coconut and baked bread-
Her lips were still roses, though the petals were falling, leaves crumbling
Their hands, intertwined, still set the vampire on fire just a little bit.



And as midnight was over, that flame flickered out;
One unbeating heart became two.
time had frozen, again, but the glaciers made the human's eyes glassy;
and the vampire's a waterfall. 
As light filtered through the open curtains,
Two ghosts turned to dust in the daylight.

  • Author: drabbler (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 6th, 2018 11:24
  • Comment from author about the poem: So this is a bit of an odd one, but I had the idea, I guess? I don't know, I find the idea of love between someone who'll live forever and someone who won't both incredibly sad but also beautiful. I hope you enjoy, sorry it's so long, and as always comments make my week :) ! copyright © @drabbler 2018
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 40

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