My Trip Into Another Life

Down into the darkness from the light I go,
As the painted sunset disappears from the sky.
It's not quite dark yet, but also not quite light.

Somewhere in between is where I dwell now,
Daylight can no longer be chased by me today.
Now the noctural are awaking from their lairs.

I feel unsettled here in the dusky skied forest,
As the creatures of the night start their day.
I wish to escape, but curosity keeps me here.

I see a female creature with skin like snow.
Her lips look like they are painted with blood.
She appears eerily beautiful and dangerous.

I am afraid, yet I cannot get my legs to move,
Too deep in the forest and the snow to leave.
She comes closer and closer to my mortal body.

Swiftly she moves, as if she is a train or a plane;
She is faster than I can ever be on my two feet.
Quickly she comes to a halt right in front of me.

I feel my life in danger in front of this dark girl,
Little did I know that I was about to be reborn.
The transition into my second life was that night.

As she touched my long, thin, unblemished neck,
And she began to sink her teeth into the right side.
She made her distinct mark and took some blood.

No wonder her lips were crimson even in the night,
She was a vampire and she had come to feed tonight.
I soon fainted from the blood loss and she stopped.

Hours, maybe days later I woke up in a strange house,
One that looked like a dark version of the victorian era.
I saw in the mirror that I now had the same pale skin.

I knew I was no longer the same as I was immediately;
My life was changed forever by that one moonlit walk.
I was now like the fair maiden in the night I discovered.

I was a vampire too and for some reason I was chosen,
Rather than just fed on like so many she bit in the night.
Thankful to be alive I started my life with my maker.

What Do I Really See?

I see a being with many imperfections,
Someone who always needs to change.
I am like a puzzle with missing pieces,
Who is not completely put together.

No matter what I do with my life,
What I do is never enough for me.
Even though I work hard and study,
I often feel I could be doing more.

I could help others in need sometime,
Pay someone who is elderly or sick a visit.
I could take more classes to get smarter,
I feel like I often act in my life as a moron.

Why do I accept others for who they are,
While I cannot accept who I am inside?
I constantly push myself to look prettier,
Be nicer, work harder, and do better.

For myself I accept nothing but perfection,
While I treat everyone else as a human being.
I act as if I don't deserve to be simply be human,
I must be something more to be good enough.

While secretly I know that I cannot be perfect,
A part of me holds hope that someday I will be.
I need to let go of these unrealistic expectations,
So I can accept myself and fully love myself again.

In Memory of the Remaining

For some reason we are still living here,
While others we have loved are gone.
Our memories for them still live inside,
While physically they are no longer here.

We are as strong as an expert weight lifter,
As we hold on to these bittersweet memories.
We are learning to live without them,
We are trying to move on without them.

For we cannot live in the past that we formed,
We must live in the present where we are.
What's done is done; they really are gone,
And we must accept what has happened.

Nothing that we can do can change the past,
We must accept the present and move on.
We can live without the ones that have died,
And we can learn to live without them now.

We can make new and marvelous memories,
That will help us enjoy our present and future.
Let's move on from these tremendous tragedies,
Let's honor the dead we adored by loving life.