I plunged needles
into our gaping veins
that pulsed and ached
with hunger.

-

You held out your arm
and asked with child innocence
“More please?”
And I obliged.

-

Later that night you cried
because the night-light burnt out
and you accused the moon
of playing hide and seek.

-

In the morning I woke up
and there were needles
in your neck
and blood on the floor.

-

You stared blankly up at me
and I grabbed your jaw,
making you mouth “I’m sorry”
because you’re my little puppet.

-

I pulled out the needles
that I had tinged with infection
and smiled as you moaned,
knowing you’d be dying with me.