I feel you on my back
latched on, black as a button, infecting me
with your disease.
I scratch at you as you bloat on my blood.
My resistance becomes half-hearted 
as your venomous saliva seeps into my body.
No matter what I do, you stay,
still poisoning me as you become my
sole companion in this world.
Only feeling desired by you, I succumb.
Who else is going to put up with my
rancid blood as long as you have?
I weaken, feeling your growing
mass on my back.
It is only when with tweezers your wretched fangs are surreptitiously extracted from my body, I then realize
the damage you did.
I’m lifeless, a skeleton wearing an
outfit of skin and an automaton’s engraved
smile.
I stare at you on the floor.
You gluttonous mass, unable to move,
trapped on your back with your countless
legs flailing.
I hear your acidic pleas, your cries for help 
like the venom you secrete.
Tears invade my eyes as I imagine a future
without you.
As I hear you screech that no one will
ever love me like you have.
I consider it, wanting 
companionship so viscerally that
I see myself taking you in my hands and plunging your fangs into my skin. 
Even if to be loved for only as much blood as I have left in me.
But, here I stand. 
Watching you writhe and shriek on the
ground before someone’s sandal comes down
on you.
It takes a few blows
for that charming exterior to crack,
and when it does,
everything you took from me oozes out.
My once crimson blood now oil-thick and
black.
You’re silent
And all others have left,
left me to mourn your scattered
parts, connected only by the inching pool
of stolen blood.