WerewolvesYou are walking amongst the wolves
because you have to,
and I am wretched,
watching you bare your warm neck,
your milk-pale skin
to the wolves, with their iron-jawed grin.
Your resistance excites a thousand macabre fantasies,
in which you only exist for their pleasure;
the hapless victim in this cat-and-mouse game.
They want you, they have you
and they will play with you.
Torture you for your screams
and break your will, they shall.
Oh yes they shall. Look,
you can see it in their eyes
where the hunger never dies...
red, with blood-
lust.
And I look in the mirror, into my blood-red eyes,
and shudder.