Her Name is Satine
Once I had the rarest rose
That ever deigned to bloom.
Cruel winter chilled the bud
And stole my flower too soon.
love song for a vampire, annie lennox
she is a vampire. her name is satine.
i always knew reincarnation exists. the cat has nine lives. the crow carries the soul of the dead to the nether world. the moth is the impermanent rebirth of our love ones traversing back from the other side to catch a last glimpse of us before departing eternally.
i always thought that i am borned in the wrong century, in the wrong era, on the wrong side of the equator. now i am sure of it. sometimes i dreamt of old dark castles and carriages. dark hooded man strolling on ancient streets. warlords with their swords. black horses galloping across the vast land.
blood does not terrified me. my friends squealed at the slightest sight of it. i will only look on apathetically. in fact, i love blood. nothing beats having blood oozing out of that succulent slab of tenderloins from the plate. si délicieux.
sleep never seeps into my body at nights. countless nights i laid awake on my fluffy quilt and matteress. eyes wide open. counting the imaginery stars above me. which star have i already counted? damn it. so confusing. sometimes i wonder, maybe i will sleep better in coffin. in the day, i dodged the sun. sun is the greatest evil of all the freckles and spots on my porcelain complexion. i piled on my sun block. i looked like i have been up all night toiling for my work. a true blue vampire look of the modern era. didn't calvin klein runway been sporting that look for seasons?
i winced at the acrid smell of garlic frying over pans. my eyes turned blind when they hit any of the pungent substance on the menu. i shivered at the sights of churches. for years when my holy spirit was being preached on that faith, being tugged and dragged by the believers to the place, i kicked, i yelled, i punched.
and i swear. my canines are much longer than the rest of my teeth. MUCH LONGER. way back when my orthodontist was doing the final touch up of my set, he has to painfully trim it for hours just to make them looked the same height than the rest.
a women's instinct, is an instinct comes right.
she is a vampire. her name is satine.
That ever deigned to bloom.
Cruel winter chilled the bud
And stole my flower too soon.
love song for a vampire, annie lennox
she is a vampire. her name is satine.
i always knew reincarnation exists. the cat has nine lives. the crow carries the soul of the dead to the nether world. the moth is the impermanent rebirth of our love ones traversing back from the other side to catch a last glimpse of us before departing eternally.
i always thought that i am borned in the wrong century, in the wrong era, on the wrong side of the equator. now i am sure of it. sometimes i dreamt of old dark castles and carriages. dark hooded man strolling on ancient streets. warlords with their swords. black horses galloping across the vast land.
blood does not terrified me. my friends squealed at the slightest sight of it. i will only look on apathetically. in fact, i love blood. nothing beats having blood oozing out of that succulent slab of tenderloins from the plate. si délicieux.
sleep never seeps into my body at nights. countless nights i laid awake on my fluffy quilt and matteress. eyes wide open. counting the imaginery stars above me. which star have i already counted? damn it. so confusing. sometimes i wonder, maybe i will sleep better in coffin. in the day, i dodged the sun. sun is the greatest evil of all the freckles and spots on my porcelain complexion. i piled on my sun block. i looked like i have been up all night toiling for my work. a true blue vampire look of the modern era. didn't calvin klein runway been sporting that look for seasons?
i winced at the acrid smell of garlic frying over pans. my eyes turned blind when they hit any of the pungent substance on the menu. i shivered at the sights of churches. for years when my holy spirit was being preached on that faith, being tugged and dragged by the believers to the place, i kicked, i yelled, i punched.
and i swear. my canines are much longer than the rest of my teeth. MUCH LONGER. way back when my orthodontist was doing the final touch up of my set, he has to painfully trim it for hours just to make them looked the same height than the rest.
a women's instinct, is an instinct comes right.
she is a vampire. her name is satine.
a miracle struck @ * 5:12 PM * (",)
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