I found her on a rooftop
Waiting for the sun to rise;
She was singing softly,
And the horizon never left her eyes.

She suggested that I sit with her,
And I could find no reason to say no.
I hadn’t watched the sun rise
Since I had left my home.

But that would never be home again,
Not without my wife.
Nothing was the same
Since she took her own life.

So I sit and watch the sun rise
With one of those creatures that I blame:
A vampire singing softly,
“Please don’t take my sunshine away…”


I love irony. This poem came from one of my out-of-left-field daydream stories that I almost never tell, involving a vampire trying to commit suicide by sunrise, being joined by a vampire hunter with a personal aversion to suicide. At first he mostly sticks around to make sure that she dies, one way or another, but as the time crawls by and it becomes clear she’s given up on her “life” — with just one last wish to see the sun again — he becomes eager to save it.

Now, I like her. There’s something about a vampire singing “You Are My Sunshine” as she sighingly waits for the sun to rise that I just find terribly appealing. So, I decided to give her a name. As I understand it, the name “Vivian” has its origins in a Latin word meaning “alive.” Have I mentioned that I love irony?