What is possession?
Is it fondness? Passion? Some kind of addiction?
You seek for satisfaction leaning across the darkness with your hands trembling and your heart growling soundly somewhere in your chest. Where? Where is it? You can't even know this simple matter, so much it aches to.
Why is it?
Why is it that your throat hurts bursting in thirst? Though you're not some kind of vampire...
What? Why? How? But you find it, dart for it, take it without a thought in shaking fingers, indulge yourself.
No mercy, but care. Not that kind of care that you think of though, no.
And you are some kind of vampire as you lift your head up, blood firing on your lips, rushing your chin.
You are beautiful.
Even hunger could melt in your eyes, but...
"MORE."