Being Alive

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by Brenda Daverin

Someone to hold you too close,
Someone to bite you too deep,
Someone to cut off your air
To make you lose sleep
To make you aware
Of being undead
Being undead.
Someone to feed from your neck,
Someone to feed from as well,
Someone to make you grow fangs
And doom you to hell
And give you the pangs
Of being undead
Being undead
Someone you have to let in
Someone whose feelings are spare
Someone who, like it or not,
Will want you to share
A kill that you've got
Is being undead
Being undead
Somebody held me too close
Somebody bit me too deep
Somebody cut off my air
And made me lose sleep
And made me aware
Of being undead, being undead
Somebody fed from my neck
Someone I fed from as well
Somebody made me grow fangs
And doomed me to hell and made me feel pangs
Of being undead
Made me undead, made me undead.
Made me confused
Lost in a haze
Made me feel used
Can't go out days
And alone, so alone, not alive.
Somebody fooled me with love
Somebody tricked me to care
Somebody willed their way through
And stripped my soul bare, to make me one, too
Not living or dead
Being undead, being undead, being undead...

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