She wanted to transform her identity much like the way one becomes a vampire.
"Just secretly at night when you feel like hunting, piercing, and sucking."
I remember when I too wanted to transform myself into a vampire; back when tissues were too thin to weigh me down,when hearts weren't cushioned and could not be hidden from sharpened elbows, when the only symbolism blood held was vitality, and all that could expel it were rough jutting edges and thirsty teeth. When veins lay out in the open waiting to be pierced.I never truly lost the hunger, but much like our transition into weakness, it became obsolete. My starvation was hidden within layers of vessels embedded somewhere deep in my chest.My chest was where my heart lay. It was the same place that once pushed me to seek foreign bodies for my redemption from thirst, but their blood was doped with chivalry and mine nearly became poisoned by default. My search for that invigorative solution has since stayed there in my chest, buried beneath capillaries and mammary. Since then,I've tried to remain shielded, covered and held up by my woven fibres,stretched cloths,and bent wires. However they've done nothing for protection, as six years ago I began running with stakes. I've tripped and stumbled countlessly, and until today when you informed me of the drunks down the hall who mistook you for a night-wandering-blood-sucking-rogue, I hadn't realized how much I've enjoyed falling onto the stake, and I'm curious as to when splinters began to quench my blood lust.