Reminiscing

I've stopped taking human form for some time now, more at home this way, being caressed by the dark. I've feasted so much the taste of blood is a permanent resident in my mouth, tickling my taste buds, draining the last bits of humanity. In a moment of weakness I fall to my knees reliving my luscious feedings, taking my creations to a surreal level, I stopped counting ages ago but each one still draws me closer, each taste still calls to me, and forever that beautiful taste rests on my tongue, driving me to the next, wanting but never needing, how can I need with all the cattle out there?