This one goes out to all the vampires and labbies out there.

Keep on sticking and keep that microscope lit.

I used to think
the blue strings in my wrists
were sparkly mirages,
not roads that take twists.

Through my body they carry
my blood to and fro;
my veins and arteries,
swoosh, swirl, and flow.

But then I got older
and found that my veins
are keys to locked doors;
my veins hold the reins.
My bloodwork tells secrets;
big ones, in fact.
Such as how much I need
to drink water to last.
Or how much I should walk,
how hard I should try
to push myself further
and make myself fly.

Neutrophils, lymphocytes,
microscope, show me the light.
Leukemia creeps.
Anemia is cheap.
Go on, platelets,
pile on in a heap.

I tried running blindly
from the vampiric lives
that came quickly at me
with needles and knives,
but they tackled me down,
tourniquet so tight,
jabbed ever so gently,
I felt not one bite.

Now I am floating,
only able to enter
if invited in
to the heart’s red center.
My lab tests disclosed
my current state of living.
I think I’ll go back
to donate and keep giving.