i gave you my blood, and they gave me a cookie

There’s a number 5 written in pencil on the wall in one of the corners of my room.
It’s most likely a remnant of some sort of contracting or plumbing blueprint. But I think it’s there because of death.

I should not fall asleep watching episodes of True Blood. It makes me extremely morbid in the morning. Morbid; and kind of hot for pale skin and sharp teeth. Rawr.

As of late I’ve been having bloody flashbacks. And I’m not using the term bloody in the cheeky way those Brits use it - I’m using it as in reference to blood. Memories of blood. I remember a glass shattering in my hand and a constellation of blood stars beaded up all over my palm. I never had nosebleeds but I remember blood flooding from my ear once. My sister told me I had a brain tumor. I proceeded to cry. It was probably my misuse of a q-tip. I’m not very gentle - perhaps my most glaring flaw.

And I remember all those times watching the white-lab-coat of the given day, drain pints of blood from my mom’s little veins. She was always quiet on these days. What was she saying with that chilling eye contact… that voiceless unsteady, tearing stare? Answer me.
I said answer me.
She always looked like an infant. When you see your mother revert back to infancy, it kind of fucks you up.
Bloody hell.

xoLo
Blood type I’m most attracted to: O Negative.
Blood type I’m most like: AB Negative.