It bit me

Give me your happiest story and I will give you your dreams wrapped up in last night's red dress.

I don’t have dreams these days.

So give me your happiest story, for fun.

It bit me on the neck and its teeth were so sharp I barely felt it. I was filled with a muted reckless rush, black angel blood and memories that weren't mine. It drank from me and it gave me life from its spindly  midnight veins. It felt oddly nice. 

I can tell you about the day I fell in love. Don't touch it, don't poison the moment. He was real and honest and kind. He spoke to me silently most of the time, wrapped up my hands in the day and body in the night, wanted to breath the same air through all seasons.”

In seven hours your neck will bleed and you will taste something bitter, unless your story is true.