An Addiction Poem by Chelsea Lybbert

Walking through the crowded hallways,
Trying to hold onto my posture,
Trying to not let my cover slip.
I can smell the sweet aroma,
I can hear the rushing of blood in their veins.
My mouth starts to water,
As my throat beings to burn.
I know I should leave,
Get away from the temptation,
But as I turn to go outside,
I see the one I cannot refuse,
I can no longer walk away.
She carries my favorite type of blood,
A blood so rare, it's always a treat.
I lure her into a small room,
No longer able to resist,
And coax her into a trace,
To ease the first pain,
Of my deadly strike.
I can now see the pulse in her neck,
And my fangs begin to grow,
I can now feel the longing hunger,
I've been putting off for too long,
So I strike quickly,
And my teeth slide easily in.
I feel the warmth of her blood,
Running down my throat,
And quenching my thirst.
I stop after a while,
To let her live,
And let her regain,
All her lost blood.
Because a treat like this,
Is hard to come by,
So I try to keep her around,
As long as I can.