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Vampyre
I refuse to be buried under the soil,
To fill my daffodil lungs with dirt
Refuse to lay in a pencil-stick box as I boil,
So you can alligator cry to emphasize your hurt
I refuse to let you leave a red rose
To have bouquets thrown on the wood
Refuse to watch that pale horse canter down another road
So you can hear me scream and know it does no good
I refuse to be defamed as a washed up mess
To be a story, a warning, children are told
I refuse to hear it was the fault of my dress
So they can feel like it is a fate they’ll never know
I refuse to be a name scrawled on stone,
To inspire parents to click their tongues
I refuse to be a limp body without a soul,
So this moment is where I scream, “enough!”
No, professor, it seems I’ve failed all my lessons,
But I won’t let you keep hurting little blonde girls in little black dresses
A corpse you called me, a corpse I am
I rue the day when I called such a coward a man
Four feet tall and six feet under
Every girl in this graveyard once had someone who loved her
A monster you called me so a monster I’ll be
You’ll rue the day you tried to bury me
Four feet tall and six feet under
No girl in this graveyard has seen sixteen summers
Ashes to ashes, but who holds the lighter?
Every girl in this graveyard has been tied to that pyre
Ashes to ashes, higher and higher
When there’s blood on my fangs, call me a vampire.
We refuse to lay in our coffins for the people to gawk
Refuse to let you bleed us dry
We refuse to be just a fable you can ward off with a cross,
Refuse to let them close their eyes,
We refuse to sit here shaking from the chills,
Refuse to do nothing when a girl screams you’ve burned her
We refuse to simply stare moodily out window sills
Refuse to let you get away with murder
No, we don’t believe you’d learn a lesson
But we won’t let you keep hurting little blonde girls in little black dresses
Corpses you called us, corpses we are
Did you rue the day a dark cupid shot a bullet through your heart?
Four hundred fangs for your neck to fall under
Every girl in this graveyard has the rest of us who love her
Monsters you called us, so monsters we’ll stay
You’ll rue the day you caused our pillows to singe with acid rain
Four hundred fangs for your neck to fall under
Every girl in this graveyard will see you don’t see another summer
Ashes to ashes, but we hold the lighters
Every girl in this graveyard, we set the world on fire
Ashes to ashes, higher and higher
When there’s blood on your hands, don’t call us vampires.
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This piece is inspired by the #MeToo movement and my own experiences of the powers of female solidarity after trauma and abuse. The analogy of the vampyre is that after this kind of pain, one is neither dead nor alive and has to learn to live in a completely different way.