Drained and Dismayed

Written for a writing contest, in which the prompt was "embarrassment."

Embarrassment is the Edward Cullen of emotions,

Shining a sparkling light onto my social anxiety;

 

It takes me in stages, like a vampiric mate,

Demanding my blush, burgundy with the blood rush,

Then the paleness that only results from others' sucking

The life and draining the dignity right out of me.

 

Dracula digs his fangs while embarrassment sinks its teeth

Into the bashful maiden's fair skin and heart--she cries out

Like a victim of cruelest forces, but the raptors savor her decay

While the dogs just lick her wounds and treasure the meat.

 

Bram Stoker would know about the horror

As humiliation rears its ugly, decapitated head;

 

Anne Rice, too, would be familiar with the beauty

That is vulnerability, whether in crowds or direct sunlight.

I can no longer see my reflection, for the mirror lies 

About what lies beyond. Who cares about reality

When I do not even recognize the figure in the glass?

No, I was already too invisible to notice my identity fade. 

 

I gather my cape and hide my face, fearful of onlookers,

Fearing they might hunt or ridicule me. I am not their beast

To be prodded with pointed and garlic-laced fingers;

 

I stalk the night, for I am its daughter while in this state�"

Then, once the sun rises, I shall retreat to my den,

A haven filled with other sensitive creatures like me.

 

Decades seem to pass, but time cannot stand still 

For me, a dramatic American with a vitamin D deficiency;

Humiliation bit me enough to draw blood, but the artery 

And humanity are still somewhat intact.

 

Mutilated by the memories yet transformed 

Into a new, diviner species, I cannot help but 

Look back to the embarrassment, hiss, and laugh.