Fragment #8 - I stop and sit on the pavement

I’m walking by the park, hands in the pockets, eyes up in the sky. I’m lost. What am I doing here? Why did I decide like that to flee to England? I just stop. I sit on the pavement, and I circle my arms around my knees. My eyes close for a second. I try to counter my headache by staring deep in the darkness of the inside of my eyelids. I can feel my heart beat. I can feel the inside monster hating me. I can see my blood turning black. Am I still a human being. I’ve been an emotional vampire in London now for such a long time. Taking bodies to me, entwining in their flesh, mixing with their inside out, sucking their emotional mellow. Only to feel as if I were someone.
But I’m not.
I’m just a body without a soul. A bloody vampire, empty of any life. My bloodshot eyes always behind curtains, afraid of the dark.
Granny has been trying to understand what was happening, but she can’t. I’ve been closing to her more and more.
Only my lovers can understand the bottom of my soul, when our hearts beat together, when my blood enter their body through their mouth, when we vibrate on a common tune.
I sit their, on the pavement, shivering in the cold of a dying summer. A fake grin on my face, big pockets under my eyes.
And I cry tears of blood.