Member Poem

Calloused hands
(strong hands)
Reach into the dimness
the darkness
Searching
for that which would be me
Had I not already
Been torn apart by the
Lycanthropic fear
that enveloped me a million years ago.
 
Calloused hands
(kind hands)
Cannot find me
No matter how they search,
for I have disappeared
into the inky black
That was so welcoming
once upon a time
but has since become
My prison.
 
Calloused hands
Float before my
Calloused eyes
and I long to reach for them
to touch fingertip
to fingertip
but I am held back
by these invisible chains
holding me mired
within my own peat-moss-thick
memories.
 
I long to feel the rough touch
Of those calloused hands
upon my tattered skin,
Long for them to find the various
parts of me
Scattered throughout this
impenetrable
ethereal void
And re-assemble me.
 
But even calloused hands
may not have the power
To save what little of me
this vampyric world
has left behind.
Scraps
Discarded
In the blackness
that I have been sentenced to
simply because
(once upon a time)
I loved.