My Were and I

One day a long time ago now,

I was hijacked by a werewolf.

I couldn’t make him go;

He wouldn’t want to, would he?

 

We settled into life together,

Werewolf and I—

His name is Lupus, by the way.

At first, I sometimes forgot

He was there at all,

But there was quite a lot

For me to learn about Lupus.

 

At first, he just nibbled here and there.

I knew to take care

Not to upset him,

But as we both grew older,

He became hungrier, bolder—

His nibbles became bites,

And I decided to fight.

 

I fought Lupus with poison,

With toxins, with everything

And anything I could get.

And yet, still he survived.

So now he takes bites

And ignores werewolf rules

To stay out of sight.

 

The werewolf is a shape-shifter,

As is Lupus—

He changes from one thing

To another, always wandering

But always coming back,

As if he loves me.

But it is not love that drives his return—

His need for my soul burns

In his desire for me.

 

He plans to kill me, I realise.

He takes too much of me;

For now, we are locked together.

I can only ponder

The question of whether

Lupus will kill me quickly, kindly,

Or cruelly string it out.

 

Of course, Lupus doesn’t know

I have a plan and I’ll take care.

I’ll know when it’s time to go.

I have the means now—

I’m taking him with me.

I know the only way to kill a were.