Wednesday, December 28, 2011

In the underworld Dracula fights to keep the ghost.
Pity they live in the real world where Dracula lets the ghost just walk away.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

the ghost resides in a coffin of her own making
paralyzed like the dead for half a year
the door locked, key thrown away
she tricked herself into solitary isolation, a state of invisibleness
drawing comparisons to the certifiable and undeserving

a protest commences
then rises up to burst out,
and with decisive acceleration, the ghost kicks that fucking coffin wide open.

i said, hey girl with one eye
get your filthy fingers out of my pie
i said, hey girl with one eye
i'll cut your little heart out cause you made me cry
Forgive yourself little ghost, for this is not your failure.
Surrender to it and be free.
Release the hold, succumb.

The pedestal he was placed on was never permanent.
Rise to the occasion.
Or don't.

Everything is sacred.
This ghost is certain.

hummingbird, just let me die,
inside the broken holes of your olive eyes.
i do believe you gave it your best try.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

The ghost wants something that won't be under the tree this Christmas (or ever).
Dracula can only be Dracula.
Disappointment shouldn't be a surprise, but it is (of course).
Wrap it up in a bow and take a picture for a remembrance.
This moment is a keepsake.

What you're waiting for isn't here anymore.
It never was.

i've looked at love from both sides now,
from give and take, and still somehow
it's love's illusions i recall.
i really don't know love at all.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

The ghost lit the candles on the first of eight nights. Then she burned the fucking house to the ground.

the ghost of you lingers
and leaves
i always think about it

Monday, December 19, 2011

Dracula and the ghost had a date to make a snowman. It was somewhat of a tradition, when there was snow. The ghost arrived early (which wasn’t unusual) and put herself straight to work on their winter project. Fifteen minutes had passed and there was still no Dracula, but there was the start of the makings of a snowman body. She was slightly concerned, but not overly. Dracula was known to be late. Forty-five minutes later, the ghost had accepted that there would be a snowman, but it would be because she made it alone.

Dracula stood her up.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The ghost was baking. It was Christmas and that's what she did. There were already dozens of chocolate chip with walnut and dried cranberry cookies, sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies and pecan balls. The kitchen was perfumed with the scent of warm butter and cinnamon.

She knew that they should be perfect Christmas cookies, warm and sweet, but wouldn’t be.

Because Dracula couldn’t eat them.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Dracula weaves fallacy into a perfect truth
It’s an unlearned art form
She knows the words mean something else
But they taste so delicious, it must be real
Isn’t it?

I always thought that if I held you tightly
You'd always love me like you did back then
Then I fell asleep and the city kept blinking
What was I thinking when I let you back in

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

She didn't die from a broken heart. She woke up.

The ghost is learning that time is powerful.
This is her dedication to a near decade.

Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am home again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am whole again
However far away
I will always love you
However long I stay
I will always love you
Whatever words I say
I will always love you
I will always love you

Monday, December 12, 2011

The ghost is the collateral damage.
The effects are systemic and wide spreading.
Knock her down and she will rise again.
Adorned in blood, scrapes and bruises.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Although he loathed and detested it, Dracula went Christmas shopping. Undoubtedly every year, he was given thoughtful and generous gifts from his dearest friends. This year he was not going to be the Grinch, even though that was his natural inclination.

For the banshee, he found a lovely cashmere shawl (if she was going to wail and scream, she might as well do it in style). Frankenstein wasn’t getting anything because he was a junkie asshole and would most definitely just sell whatever gift he received for some smack. Dracula did get the Bride a little something since he was sure Frankenstein wouldn’t bother. His choice in gifts were swift and without trepidation, all except for the ghost. Finding the gift that would be just right for her would take a bit more thought and consideration.

He ran through a mental list of all of the material things he could imagine her to ever want and although he was sure of a few, especially one in particular, he just couldn’t make that purchase.

So he bought her a blender instead.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Frankenstein had a relapse and found himself back in rehab. Dracula discovered him passed out in the bathtub at his apartment. His concern grew after a week of calling with no answer or returned messages and he went looking for his troubled friend. (That hide-a-key really did come in handy.)

The bride was finished. She chose herself.
Either way, whether Frankenstein was to be reformed or remain a junkie she would be gone. He lost her and would be alone.

And that made him sad.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

the ghost is done.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas

Frankenstein convinced Dracula to go on an impromptu midnight trip to Vegas. It went completely against his better judgement, but something mischievous inside granted him permission.

Once they arrived on the strip, without a spoken word they headed for the black jack tables and committed to win some money (not that they needed it, as the world was theirs for the taking). After a few hours, the undead duo amassed a small fortune and eventually the game lost it’s allure.

They cashed out their chips, walked with intense intention toward the casino exit and without skipping a beat, spoke the most glorious words to each other at exactly the same time, “Strip Club.”

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The ghost was mending her torn heart with brilliant gold thread and shining silver wire. As the needle carefully crafts each and every tiny stitch, the broken pieces are slowly bound back together. It will no longer be the heart it once was, but it can still beat strong and pump blood (if she had any) and that will have to just be good enough (for now).

Tuesday, November 29, 2011


the dagger sliced deep into the ghost, knocking the wind right out of her
it was fascinating really

after all this time, she could still bleed

Dracula, your quiet silence speaks volumes
I know you, I know you

To console his everlasting loneliness, Dracula acquired a companion. A tiny yellow finch that to this day still remains unnamed.
(Who could decide?)
His singing cage-bird companion delighted Dracula and provided him with joyful moments of awe and amusement. The emptiness lessened and that was a soothing consolation.

On an unassuming, very regular day, Dracula felt an urge, an almost subconscious telepathic request.
(Was the tiny unnamed finch communicating?)
Sweet freedom is what his feathered companion desired (and how could Dracula deny that pleasure?) He reached his cold icy hand out toward the door of the cage and released the latch. The finch cocked his head to the side and slowly hopped toward the newly opened exit. Perched at the gates of autonomy, he spread his wings to take flight. Dracula watched with curiosity, contemplating what his little finch would do with his new found independence.

It would be not a moment more that Dracula would discover the answer to his seemingly innocent question, as the unnamed finch took flight; he locked his position directly on Dracula. As it would seem, the affection Dracula felt for his friend was not returned.

The tiny yellow finch flew for his face and attacked Dracula, feverishly pecking at his eyes. Dracula stood (stinging and bloodied), stunned and surprised.

For the first time in centuries.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Do not give up little ghost
You are closer than you think
Erase me and I will paint myself again
For this voice cannot silence me

Oh I'm scared of the middle place
Between light and nowhere
I don't want to be the one
Left in there, left in there

Saturday, November 26, 2011

the ghost watches the sad and desperate trying to dance (badly), numb and inebriated from too many watered down rum and cokes. she attempts to subdue her presence and limit the attention bound to come her way.

(what did you expect coming in here looking like that?)

filling the minutes with girl talk and colorful hand gestures she catches him watching her. eyes lock with purpose as he makes his way over to the ghost and she braces herself (here we go).

"want to dance?" he asks.
"yes, but not with you."

he ate my heart
he ate my heart out

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

hunny bunny

this ghost girl is full of surprises
she’s got moves you couldn’t imagine
if you’ve got a ticket, take the ride
cause you’ll go places, baby
it’ll be a one way trip
cause once you get there
you’ll never want to leave

And baby when it’s love if its not rough it isn’t fun, fun

Friday, November 18, 2011

toy with the ghost.
taunt her even.
what’s the worst that could happen?
she’s dead already.
go on, you know you want to.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

They met in a dark bar found in the seedy side of underworld. The ghost wore white and the zombie masked the scent of its rotting flesh with (what smelled like) a gallon of cheap cologne. The ghost mildly appreciated the effort, but mostly excused it because the zombie was mysterious and exciting (in all the wrong kinds of ways).

The pale flesh of the ghost’s cheek flushed as she drank and she was over taken with a dizzy lightheadedness. The zombie’s language became a stream of nonsensical words bound together with anticipation and intrigue. Hundreds of tiny strung multi-colored lights illuminated a halo around the unlikely couple and as intoxication consumed the ghost, the lights blurred, confusing and constraining any vision.

She shuts her eyes for the briefest of moments to catch her breath and steal a second of simple quiet. Before her was an open mouthed, tooth exposed zombie lurching forward. The ghost pulls back with a flinch and the zombie proposes, “Just let me take a little nibble, I promise it won’t hurt too much.”

Shocked and appalled, the ghost declined with a vicious force. With her back against the wall and a fearful breathlessness she watched the zombie slink closer and closer. It stood before her, filled with an irrational frustration and a desire to devour. All signs pointed to a fate in which the ghost was to be a meal (one of many, she was sure). She gasped and braced herself waiting for the first bite, (but nothing). Slightly confused, she felt a slight respite, until the zombie’s hand flew through the air and made hard contact with her face.

Stinging and burning spread across her cheek as she realized that not only did that fucking zombie slap her, but it was the first thing she had actually felt in months.

Not eaten, just publicly humiliated.

he hit me
and it felt like a kiss
he hit me
and i knew he loved me
if he didn’t care for me
i could have never made him mad
but he hit me
and i was glad

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Dracula brushed up against the ghost’s cool skin with the flesh of his bare chest. A rush of warm life returned to her vacant vessel and ignited a burning fire. A revival takes place, restoring all of the hope she was too afraid had been long lost.

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

feed your head

the porcelain ghost tripped over her shadow and fell down the rabbit hole (that was inside a rabbit hole, inside of another rabbit hole, inside a rabbit hole). the further she fell, the faster she fell. the deeper the depth, the darker and thinner the air. flapping and flopping, she gasped like the fish out of water (how unladylike).

the pressure begins to build and the pain increases, until she feels a pop. her porcelain veneer cracks. it is just a hairline fracture at first, then a deep dividing split. she bursts apart into a million sharp and tiny shards.

never to be together again.

Monday, October 31, 2011

on all hallows eve, the ghost was filled with the spirit. possessed by the dark, she took the night on by storm. the demons of her past rose to the surface and like a true warrior she faced them.

when it was all over she was bloodied and bruised, but alive (and grateful for it).

Sunday, October 30, 2011

good morning. the ghost is hung over. (how is that possible?)

the end.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

The ghost knelt down before the great chamber. (Her knees red and sore.) She quivers with fear and anticipation. Her future is unsteady and the present uneasy.

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep,

If I shall die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Friday, October 28, 2011

The ghost convinced Dracula to dress up in costume with her this Halloween. (They’re going to a P.A.R.T.Y.) He was hesitant at first, but then thought, “What the hell.” She was thrilled, but tried to not reveal just how excited she really was. (Secretly, she was bursting with joy and happiness.)

They settled on dressing up like each other, but there were several concepts and ideas bounced around before coming to their final conclusion. (DIY Lobsters, Chola and Vato, 80’s, Priest and Nun, Frankenstein and his Bride)

Dracula gets off easy. He only has to hide under a white sheet with the eyes cut out. (The ghost thinks he looks adorable.) She has a much more elaborate costume and one absolutely favorite part. She is wearing Dracula’s real cape and it smells delicious, just like him.

At the party, the cape envelopes her and she stays wrapped up inside of it all night long. It was like a big warm hug (which was just what she needed).

Thursday, October 27, 2011

The ghost came to. That fucking zombie was clawing at her throat (again).
Scratch marks from the last attack hadn't even healed yet.
This was a test (and the ghost doesn't like being tested).

If she fails, there is always summer school.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Enveloped by a dense fog, the ghost slowly evaporates. As each day passes, she becomes more and more invisible (almost transparent). Once day she will completely disappear.

The ghost ceases to exist. (one big breath and you'll blow her away)

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

She floats above the ground under a dark and starless sky, hidden by tall swaying blades of grass. Supple drops fall
down on her.
Rain sprinkles slowly at first, then crescendos to a fast and steady stream. Water pours over her, pricking and kissing every inch of her flesh, bathing her anew.

This ghost is baptized. (Hallelujah)

and it’s not a cry that you hear at night
it’s not somebody who’s seen the light
it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah
hallelujah, hallelujah

Monday, October 24, 2011

the ghost contracted a virus, the kind she has not been accustomed to since she was living. on a routine haunting she was spotted by a small child in a dark corner of an empty room. they were both startled. the tiny human lunged at the ghost and sunk her teeth deep into the flesh of her cold arm. the ghost jerked away and the clutching grip was broken. she was struck with shock, mesmerized by her new puncture wound. the ghost stood frozen and the child scurried off. within moments, she could feel the chill from a fever and a deep burning from the ache in her bones.

she was infected and there was nothing to be done about it.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

the ghost has taken a vow of silence
dracula is on vacation (cabo is nice this time of year)
and frankenstein is just too fucking lazy to care

Saturday, October 22, 2011

It was the same sad, pathetic story. The ghost was home (again). Depressed, broke and alone. Boo-hoo, nobody loves me. Even she was tired of listening to the same broken record play over and over and over again. She was miserable in the dark on her favorite night of the year (and it was bullshit).

Then, the light turned on (a-ha).

She could do anything she wanted (and I mean anything). Frighten small children, steal candy, terrorize the spirits from beyond. The afterlife was her oyster and she was wasting it all away on her broken heart and lost lover. It was pitiful and would stop right now. What other night of the year could she get away with black tear stains from gobs of mascara and eyeliner running down her face, dashing and darting through the dark streets hysterical and insane? Well baby, it was tonight and she was taking full advantage.

"Fuck it" she says. "I'm going out."

I don't know who you think you are
But before the night is through
I wanna do bad things with you
I wanna do real bad things with you

Friday, October 21, 2011

dracula finally slept after 6 sleepless days. he awoke to a sky full of stars and the glowing crescent moon. he felt refreshed, maybe even exhilarated.

his mind was clear, but unfortunately devoid of anything creative or interesting to say. it was a trade off.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

the ghost soaks in a warm milk and water bath. her cold skin wrinkled and pruned. her face, slick and tight from the hardened clay mask she has worn for too long. without a though she holds her breath, slides down under the milky water and opens her eyes. everything is white and she comes up for air with a quick gasp.

in her sad and quiet house, she secretly crafts a plan. one in which she is not alone and not afraid of loss. (everything goes away.) the tighter her grasp, the faster the life she once knew slips between her icy fingers. she longs for warmth and something concrete, solid, reliable. adapting and growing to appreciate her own company is a challenge.

the ghost is tired of her tears. they taste awful and wreak havoc on her complexion. if only tears were made of something other than salty water, like french wine or (even better) aged single malt scotch.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Dumb Luck

dracula opened his mouth to speak, but the words did not come
the ghost was fading, frozen and paralyzed

In a parallel universe, Dracula and the Ghost could speak everything and were seen everywhere. Too bad they live in the underworld.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

they speak in (not so secret) one minute code. he's not even trying very hard to hide anything. you're a fool ghost girl.

and you pay for it too.
the heartbroken ghost crawls into the bed they once shared and curls up inside the contour of where his body slept. if she holds just still, she can almost feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. his scent still lingers on the pillow and she buries her face deep into the memory of him.

if you want to kill the ghost, ignore her.

Monday, October 17, 2011

But your heart can't grieve for your little dreams

The ghost stares at herself in the mirror. Her eyes, red and burnt from too much crying. She thinks to pinch herself, because this can't be her (after)life. It must be a nightmare and she is desperate to wake up.

Deep breaths in and out. (in, out, in, out, in, out) She wipes her tears away, puts the reddest lipstick she owns on and slips her grandmother's amethyst ring onto her finger. Strength arrives in many forms, from the most unexpected quiet corners.

Survive today, then tomorrow and then the next, and next, and next. Time never stops, not even for your tears. So pick, pick, pick yourself up little ghost,
and live.

All your dreams are over now
And all your wings have fallen down

Sunday, October 16, 2011

The alarm clock went off (James Brown Live at the Apollo) just as the sun began to rise. He rolled over and looked at the time, took a deep breath and got out of bed. The coffee was on and the shower was hot. It was the most anticipated early start to the day in a long while. Frankenstein had a new job.

He stood in his boxers, ironing his crisp new shirt and mulled over his neck tie selection. He wanted to make a statement, but didn't need to come off too flashy or cocky (yet). He settled on a striped and stylishly understated option that completed his Monday ensemble. Excited and exhilarated, he makes his way toward the front door with his briefcase in hand and a pep in his step.

It had just started, but was already a good (even great) day.

Whoa-oa-oa! I feel good, I knew that I would, now
I feel good, I knew that I would, now
So good, so good, I got you

Saturday, October 15, 2011

The ghost bird with the wounded wing, flaps with all of her might. Gasping and grasping, she pushes on. Filled with the spirit of flight, she fights.

he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves

Friday, October 14, 2011

uncomfortable funny, not funny ha-ha

trapped in his coffin as prisoner to the daylight, dracula yearned for sleep.
(pleaded even)
plagued with with the inconvenience of time and the limitations of square footage, confronting him was an unrelenting certainty.
(dracula was an insomniac)

I need the darkness
someone please cut the lights

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The good (ghost) wife's guide

I am the ghost
Lost and abandoned
Spoon-feed me your lies
For the truth is too unbearable

She stands in her heels beating eggs for a cake in the kitchen. Dressed in her Sunday best, strand of pearls around her neck and June Cleaver lace apron tied to her waist. Pork chops and mashed potatoes kept warm in the oven, waiting for the centaur of the house to return home from a hard day at work. She greets him in the foyer by the front door with a double shot of scotch and a warm kiss on his cheek. It is the quintessential perfect picture of an all-American family.

On the outside it was the happy couple, beautiful home, barbecues and block parties. On the inside it was uppers, downers, hard liquor and more than one lady ghost for the centaur on the side.

They sit in silence before their meals. He chases peas around the plate with his fork and chain smokes one cigarette after another. She asks him how work was and pretends to listen to his recounting of the day to day happenings at the office. He doesn’t ask about her day. The thought never entered his mind.

She slices a large piece of cake and pours a glass of milk. He gladly accepts his dessert, kisses her cool ghost forehead and retreats to the television. Settling into the recliner he eats his cake, drinks milk and watches the game with delight.

The ghost clears the table, turns to the sink and washes the dinner dishes. Still in her heels.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The ghost had booked a last minute late night haunting. She almost declined the offer, but her plans for the evening had been canceled.

(her blind date backed out)

Why sit home alone feeling rejected by a complete stranger? At least she wouldn't be by herself and could have something to keep busy with. Make a little money and get some sweet revenge.

(completely for free)

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

the ghost awoke at dawn and made her way out the front door. she walked down the street toward the rising sun and contemplated the state of her (after)life. the sky slowly evolved from a cloudy gray into a swirling sprawl of pastel violet and orange sorbet. the air was perfumed with jasmine and gardenia. for that very moment in the still air, all was well in the (under)world.

she wrapped those few precious minutes in a satin ribbon and placed them safe inside the locket she wore on a necklace around her neck. within that heart shaped keepsake lived the vibrations of bliss.

coveted and protected, she hid the tiny home that housed her happiness and was always careful to keep it safe, quiet and hidden. like a bird with the nature to fly, she clipped it's wings and kept it caged.

left with no hope of an escape.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Dracula’s services had been retained to officiate a Halloween evening wedding. The bride and groom to be agreed to pay his nightly rate and he had never had the occasion to marry a couple ever before. Besides, he was sure to land a bridesmaid before the end of the night, (maybe even two).

The happy couple had a few unusual requests for the celebration of their glorious union. First, they asked that Dracula have a live crow perched on his shoulder during the wedding (he negotiated that the crow would be optional during the reception). He was also advised that it was very important for him to conduct the ceremony in the typical “Dracula movie Transylvania accent” (how cliche). He submitted to each of their desires with the seriousness of a hired professional. Secretly, he laughed and mocked them.

Frankenstein begged Dracula to coerce the bride and groom to hire him as their DJ for the event. It wasn’t difficult to sell them on the proposal, although it was marginally irritating that he could never do anything for himself.

It wasn’t surprising. After all, Frankenstein had been riding his cape-tails for centuries.

Sunday, October 9, 2011


that sound you hear is the silence ringing inside an empty ghost. biding her time she counts the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months. patience was not her virtue.

going through the motions she watches the hands on the clock tick, tick, tick forward. (onward and upward) in an attempt to self preserve, distance and disconnection are her only options. fake it until you make it just wasn’t working for her. (who was she kidding, really?)

the ache where her heart once lived had started to feel like the rule, rather than the exception. inside a room that once felt like home, sorrow and despair had taken up residence. these guests were not meant to stay long, but had made themselves feel far too comfortable to leave.

frightened like a little girl, this ghost has come to terms with the need to grow up, so she can make decisions like a woman.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

hey hustler, this ghost thought she knew you

I know that you want to scream
Run and touch my everything
Because I look like a playground to you, playa

The ghost was dealing with a serious bout of insomnia and in a cold and quiet room she held a silent celebration.

I just don’t know what to do
I’m too afraid to love you

Friday, October 7, 2011

bang-boom, baby

on a regular and seemingly average day, the ground opened, separated and sunk. in a matter of moments, a large gaping hole appeared in the middle of a completely normal suburban street. This occurrence would be both noticeable and inexplicable.

hissing steamy green mist snaked out of the huge hole and as it cleared, creatures of the night began to crawl up and out. these were the ghouls that had never seen the light of day in a human world (because some creatures are confined to the underworld for good reason).

the lid to the (literal) pandora's box of death had been blown off and although they (unsuspecting humans) didn't know it yet, soon they would see.

chaos and mayhem was on the prowl and would bring a world of hurt with it.

By the rivers dark
Where I could not see
Who was waiting there
Who was hunting me
Then he struck my heart
With a deadly force
And he said
This heart: It is not yours

Thursday, October 6, 2011

dancing queen

i am the ghost who dances with her eyes closed
the music stops, but i ride or die
swallow the silence and set the air free
tonight, i plot an escape and fly

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Dracula had a thing for braces. Retainers did it for him too. There was nothing more seductive or inciting than the forced structural and cosmetic correction of teeth. It was even better when the braces caused his victim to have a slight lisp as they spoke. It drove him crazy.

He day dreamed (in his sleep) about feeding on his metal mouthed beauties. As his obsession grew, he spent more and more of his free time perusing orthodontic websites and trade magazines. He even considered attending a national convention for orthodontists that met in Boca Raton, FL.

Before he knew it, his lust for blood could only be satisfied when supplied by a human whose smile reflected the moonlight. Regular teeth just didn’t excite him. He knew it was going to eventually cause a problem.

Maybe he could just open his own practice.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

big dreams, gangster

dracula slipped off into the night
(not before stealing a small keepsake)
the ghost awoke to find her heart missing
(she was only as strong as her secrets)

gullible ghost
in truth, she wasn’t entirely surprised

and I know
that love is mean and love hurts
but I still remember that day we met in december

Monday, October 3, 2011

the banshee was sick and tired of wailing every time someone was going to die. it was exhausting. she had been saddled with the responsibility for centuries and quite frankly, it was pretty depressing.

all she really wanted was to go to an office, do something mindless, go home and collect a check. simplicity was what she longed for.

they hired her on the spot. she would be processing claims for vampire dental insurance. during her week long training class she learned dental insurance jargon, how to properly use the phone system, computer programs and basic customer service. most of friday was spent learning about the more complicated and expensive procedures such as fang removal, fang replacements and the various materials they could be fashioned from. it was all so fascinating to her and just so different from wailing and crying all day.

the following monday she came into the office and was escorted to her very own cubicle, with her very own phone and headset. slightly nervous she sat down and got straight to work.

call after call she spoke to disgruntled vampires who were angry and upset that their claim was denied, reversed or rejected for some nondescript administrative reason. she was completely unprepared, overwhelmed and worried that she had made a huge mistake. filled with some optimism, she decided to give it a few weeks to see if the situation improved.

friday came and she was elated to leave the office. she couldn’t understand how anyone could do this day in and day out. it was torture. all weekend long she was filled with anxiety about returning to the office on monday, but was committed to give it one more week.

by wednesday she could barely take it. every single call was someone more infuriated than the vampire before. jaded, she didn’t even try to sugar coat the bad news she delivered anymore. her headset felt like a vice crushing her head, her cubicle was a corral confining her to the tiny box she lived in 8 hours a day.

thursday morning, she reluctantly shuffled in and slumped down into her seat. her first call was from an elderly vampire who had a fang replacement and wanted to dispute the claim. the banshee calmly attempted to explain the bill to the vampire, but he didn’t want to hear it. expletives poured out of his mouth, directly into her ears. stunned she sat and listed. her silence only enraged him further. instantly, he screamed into the phone, “you bitch, i’m going to rip your throat out.”

and that was it. she stood up and screamed, “fuck you grandpa.”

and not a second later she slammed down her head set, escaped her cubicle and ran toward the door as fast as she could. (crying and wailing all the way.)

Sunday, October 2, 2011

dracula had an almost expired certificate for a session of speed dating (sponsored by the lost souls of the underworld singles group). it was given to him last year at the office holiday party. one of the banshees in accounting thought it would be fun to have a white elephant gift exchange.

he had completely forgotten about it and coincidentally came across it while cleaning out a drawer in his desk. he snickered at the thought of going speed dating. after all, he was dracula. the dark under lord who discards the hearts and corpses of women without a thought (or much effort).

it was true that he had hit a bit of a dry spell. there hadn’t been someone who sparked his interest for a while. as he hemmed and hawed, contemplating whether he would actually consider this as a viable option to meet someone new he paused. unwilling to commit at this very moment, he made a mental note of the exact date of expiration on the certificate.

he opened the drawer and placed his free session of speed dating back inside it. slowly, he slid the drawer back into the desk. he didn’t have to make any decisions now.

the offer wouldn’t expire for another three weeks.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

{before the great revelation}

he had been awake for more the 36 hours. the secret had been successfully hidden for some time. he was supporting the habit with the income earned from his various appearances. on the cusp of a full reveal, frankenstein grappled with the notion that he was eventually going to be found out.

once a rather amiable fellow, he could be quite the life of the party (even with his limited vocabulary). now he was avoiding and dodging all of his closest companions. he no-showed the ghost that their regularly scheduled sunday brunch date. he hadn’t returned any of dracula’s messages in weeks.

sooner or later, they would come to know the reason for his absence.

{during the great revelation}

as the key turned and the door opened, the ghost and dracula were aghast. his apartment was a disaster. not the kind of disaster you would expect from a bachelor (he and the bride had been separated for some time), but a sight that would indicate severe emotional distress. sifting through the debris they unearthed the clues and indicators that when pieced together, told a dismal story.

the (once dark) cherry wood coffee table was stained with the heavy sprinkling of a pharmaceutic grade white powder. half crushed pills and assorted contraband were ground into the couch cushions and carpet. crumpled pieces of burnt tinfoil were scattered on top of the television and bookshelves.

it was painfully obvious; frankenstein had become a franken-junkie.

{after the great revelation}

rehab suited him. he enjoyed the confines of his new existence and held an appreciation for the ritualistic quality of his regimented schedule. it was easier to not have to make any decisions. the food was okay and he was making friends with the other patients. his therapy sessions were going well and he was encouraged by all the progress he was making.

he took a liking to his therapist. she listened to him (which is more than he could say for the bride) and filled him with a sense of renewed hope. he was working the program and was really looking forward to a more simple, sober life.

he did still feel slightly anxious and a little apprehensive about leaving. re-entering the underworld again would prove to be a challenge, filled with deliciously tempting vices. Could he really change and more importantly, did he actually want to? these were the questions that kept him up at night and were the thoughts he shared with no one.

{post rehab}

dracula picked frankenstein up the day of his discharge. he was armed with a myriad of literature on drug addition and the 24 hour line phone number to reach his therapist.

when they arrived at his home, he stepped inside a very clean and sanitized version of his once almost uninhabitable apartment. (the ghost had cleaned for days) a wave of shame and guilt filled him as he realized what his friends had witnessed.

after dracula left, he decided to unpack. 15 minutes had passed and he was at an utter loss. he had no idea what he should do with himself. he hadn’t been home for more than an hour and was already starting to itch. he knew the odds were stacked against him. he could visualize himself knocking off a Walgreens or CVS and could almost taste the unearthly bitterness that preludes the joy of being spun out on a pharmaceutical tweak.

he was so fucked. maybe he just needed some prozac.

Friday, September 30, 2011

streaming in icy air
gliding on frozen breath
taste an iridescent fog

mid paralysis, the ghost succumbed
swimming against the current she could see herself disappear
melting like snow rendered completely irrelevant, nearly invisible

as the water filled her lungs and drained into her anesthetized heart
she accepted it was impossible to wade the water

thrashing, drowning
she was washing away, filling with regret

she held a whisper
closed her eyes

and let go

Thursday, September 29, 2011

I'm not your brunch, bitch

The zombie was devouring the ghost. The weight of its dead flesh pressed down and compressed the ghost deep into the ground. She was being consumed in body, but in spirit she still had some fight.

The zombie could rob the tangible (tissue, muscle, bone). It couldn't steal her soul. That belonged to the ghost.

It was her soul (heartless chest cavity)

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Romeo and Juliet of the Underworld

Once upon a time there was a ghost girl who could fly. Beneath the full moon, she would sprout wings and take flight under the lunar light.

On this particular night, she took a detour through a forest of trees (just for a new view, a different perspective) and lost control from her extreme speed. She crashed into a towering pine tree, saw stars and fell fast and hard.

When she came to, excruciating pain enveloped her winged ghost body. It was a pain she could vaguely remember from her humanly life (that had ended centuries ago). She laid, broken and battered, shocked that that she was bleeding from her silvery feathered wings.

She found the pain strangely nostalgic and a calm came, directly before immense panic. Convinced that she was actually experiencing a slow death (all over again) she devoted her last few moments in an attempt to make peace with the end of her afterlife.

As she slowly exhaled her last few breaths, a rustling in the wooded brush caught her attention. From the dark forest emerged a trotting centaur. Without slowing his pace, he swept up the injured (and bloody) ghost girl and tossed her onto his back.

Overwhelmed by the circumstance she found herself in (half dead again) speeding through the night on the back of the centaur, she was struck with a comforting thought,

“Well, this has never happened before. I think I can die now.”

Friday, September 23, 2011

Sisters of the (office) Afterlife

Two (ghost girl) friends walked down a long hallway towards an exit. As they made idle chit chat about the day they came to the landing of a winding staircase. They glanced down and then back at each other with a fondness expected of friends to share.

As the first ghost girl took a step to descend down the stairs, the other was inexplicably and without reason struck with an urge. She reached her icy cold ghost girl hands out and gave a quick and swift push to the back of her unsuspecting companion.

A warm burning sensation took rise through her undead body as she watched her victim crumple down, down, down the swirling stairs. As the (victim) ghost girl collided with the floor, she raised her eyes and took notice of her dear friend with fear and confusion. A moment passed and her rage slowly melted and transcended into forgiveness. She saw an unfamiliar look of joy and accomplishment wash across her friend’s face, an emotion she had never witnesses before.

A quiet understanding was shared between the two (ghost girl) friends and without speaking, all was immediately forgiven.

Keep smilin’, keep shinin’
Knowin’ you can always count on me, oh, for sure
‘Cause I tell you that’s what friends are for
For good times and for bad times
I’ll be on your side forever more
That’s what friends are for (That’s what friends are for)

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

dracula awoke in his coffin (built for two). for a moment before he opened his eyes he could feel her next to him. hopeful, he glanced over but was greeted with nothing but darkness. heart(less) broken, a realization chilled. he coped and clung to what was left. the memory of her ghost now occupied his place of slumber. he could almost smell her in the air.

her essence lived in the practice of his (emotional) muscle memory and for now, that would have to be just enough.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

the ghost was having a completely shit day. nothing was going her way. all she longed for was a warm bath and a strong drink.

she was just about to give up on the day when a gift appeared; a vision of a desperate, bad Dorothy Hamill hair look-a-like image of her most despised nemesis.

and as luck would have it, the day wasn’t so bad after all.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The lonely ghost made the decision to boycott Halloween. Her heart (empty chest cavity) just wasn’t in it this year. The evening easily could have been booked with several hauntings. Her services were highly in demand. She was avoiding everyone; her voice mail box was full and most likely with work related inquiries.

With a heavy spirit, she glides through the day, trying to fill it with the mundane and menial. Breaking the hours into increments of time and events:

  • Nine o’clock to half past ten - frighten small children in the park
  • Half past ten to noon - posses the body of an ally cat and terrorize rodents
  • Noon to half past three - attempt to nap and watch awful daytime television
  • Three o’clock to four o’clock - shop online for shoes and a new comforter for her bed
  • Four o’clock to half past six - pick vegetables from her garden and make a salad for dinner
  • Six o’clock to seven o’clock - drink an entire bottle of wine, all the while affirming that each glass would be her last (of course until she poured another)
  • Seven o’clock and on - drunkenly succumb to depression, cry and pass out on her bed

The next morning she awoke to a thunderous headache. Puddles of tears mixed with yesterday’s makeup stained her pillow and blanket. Disappointed, she paused. Human-like emotion got the best of her, but soon she decided that at least half of the previous day’s online shopping wasn’t in vein. After all, she really needed that new comforter now.

Rationalization, check

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

lightening cracked across the sky
black to navy
the air whispers, releasing unspoken secrets

turn on the lights please
it’s too quiet in the dark
bright is brave

flip the switch
be strong little girl
inching toward the edge


and I’m not sleeping now
the dark is too hard to beat
and I’m not keeping now
the strength I need to push me

Monday, September 12, 2011

under a cloud cloaked moon
the ghost danced as fast as she could
faster, faster, faster

gliding against the wind
as quickly as it appeared
the movement met a halt

without a thought
she decided it was better to scream

Saturday, September 10, 2011

to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die

although this wasn’t uncharted territory, dracula found himself in the midst of a love triangle. he had been in this situation before (at least 100 years ago) and knew the trouble he was headed for.

he met the unicorn in his undead youth. he was fascinated with her and they both fell hard and fast. she didn’t mind that he wasn’t technically alive and he was familiar with the supernatural. it was the most innocent and settled he had felt in many centuries. he was content. the unicorn softened dracula’s rough edges. she really knew him. they were at home with the comfort they shared. secretly, they were blissfully happy.

a decade had passed, their love constant and consistent. the same, not entirely ever-changing. dracula felt a restlessness rising. the unicorn felt it too. frightened, she ignored it (or maybe just pretended that she didn’t see it). “this will pass,” she prayed.

dracula started to talk about the new zombie at the office, a lot. the unicorn saw a light in his eyes that once burned only for her. she was supportive, but suspicious. but in reality, the unicorn knew she was fucked.

because everyone knows that zombies can’t resist unicorn flesh and sooner or later, the unicorn would be dinner.

Monday, September 5, 2011

sunday blues

dracula drank some scotch and took a muscle relaxer. he needed some quiet, a small escape. “i’ll pull myself together tomorrow,” he thought.

And just for today, he went away.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

the ghost girl is lost without her ghost boy
but realizes that the difference between pain and love is time

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Friday, September 2, 2011

The ghost girl was duped by a she-wolf in (really bad second-hand store) sheep's clothing. Take caution ghost boy, that she-wolf sheep runs around with more than one wolf pack.

I'm not calling you a liar, just don't lie to me
I'm not calling you a thief, just don't steal from me
I'm not calling you a ghost, just stop haunting me
And I love you so much, I'm gonna let you kill me

Sunday, August 7, 2011

broken hearted, tears streaming
her heart fractured and beyond repair
sad ghost girl
paranoid and insecure
her mantra of the month

ghost boy gives it all away
wasted on a hollow harlot
loving the attention
craving the chaos

everything she touches dies alone
coward courtesan
stealing because she can
manipulate and calculate
the destruction of something good and pure

ghost girl learns to find comfort in her tears
tears don't lie, but ghost boys do

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

lonely ghost
alone with an ache inside her lifeless chest
swallowing reality like a bitter pill
praying for numb

please just love me

Friday, July 15, 2011


ghost girl sat chain smoking
puff, puff, puff

desperation lingered in the air much longer
and she had stopped trying to convince herself otherwise

day old mascara
thick smudges smear across the pillow

whiskey and the cure
If they could see me now
They'd never believe it

go cry in the corner ghost girl
no one here gives a shit