This poem is kind of... not up to your usual high standards.
I like this line:
"After bleeding from the sides where you used to touch me,"
Mostly because that invokes religious imagery. And I see the vampire connection, but all in all, I think it's a little overdone. You don't seem to connect the vampire imagery with the Christ imagery, and that's kind of weird.
... hah. Yeah. Nice critique.
With that said, I want to point out something that I've noticed in a lot of your poems:
Waking up flat-backed in the woodwork of my coffin,
I notice that you start your poems with an "ing" verb most of the time. Try varying it a little. I don't know. Maybe I'm too much of a fiction writer, but doing that in fiction, especially a lot, is a big no-no, and seeing it here makes me flinch a little.
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