My windows, covered with blankets, dark black ones to hide the intimidating light, wonder if im alive, they keep me from the day, and bring me instant night.
I’m not a vampire, although i wish to be. When i venture out into the day, which i must eventually, i shield my eyes. its hurts to look at the sun. it burns to invite its light.
Sometimes the blanket moves and a stream of light burns at my skin. Sometimes i am surprised there are no lasting marks. Some people think im faking, others think im insane, while some think its only my mind, playing a game. They might be right, but i know what i feel. The blinding light, is very real.